


Traits, Trials and Truth

by thegirlthatdoesnotofficiallyexist



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Angst, Sanders Sides - Freeform, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-08 21:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 29,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatdoesnotofficiallyexist/pseuds/thegirlthatdoesnotofficiallyexist
Summary: Virgil has been established as an important part of Thomas...and his counterparts were working on the rest. But after a while, they start to notice that he's becoming more influential, to the point that some can't accept.Is Virgil the bad guy? Or a victim being played like a pawn in the long game?Platonic LAMPTrigger warnings will be in an A/N at the top of each chapter. Probably panic attacks, self degradation, and lots and lots of tears.Spoiler: (there will be a happy ending i promise xx)All characters belong to Thomas Sanders, only the plot is mine.Posted elsewhere.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sides discuss whether Thomas should go out that night, most aren't happy with the decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A/N: Trigger Warning: character has a slight breathing issue at the end, but is quickly dealt with and is very minor.

 

"Look, _all_ i'm saying is that you only know _two_ people who are going to be there, that and those _two people_ just got together _yesterday_. What are you going to do? I know exactly what you're going to do. You're gonna stick to the new couple like glue for the whole night and annoy the..."

"But Thomas doesn't have to! Sure he only knows two people now, but it will be the perfect opportunity to make some new friends!"

"...but they're the ones who invited you, you don't want to let them think you're neglecting them..."

"That's a bit of a stretch Anxiety..."

"Even so, what if you get rejected? You're going to piss off and alienate Jane and Tom if they see you can't click with their friends..."

"Well Thomas, in reality it won't be as precarious or likely to fail as _Debby Downer_ over here would lead you to think-"

"Yeah, Anxiety! You can't even stick to one stance today-"

The five were arguing passionately in Thomas' living room. It was early afternoon, and the deadline for bailing on established plans in a socially acceptable manner was fast approaching. Anxiety huffed at the last responce, which happened to belong to the smug Prince on his right.

"Well. All three outcomes are entirely possible and likely! They got together _yesterday_ Thomas, they won't want you sticking to them and you won't even stay long without them babysitting you so why even bother-"

"It's a chance to grow then!" Patton offered, clapping his hands with his characteristic cheer and zeal.

Thomas was thinking very deeply. "I think..." They all leaned in. "I think I might stay in tonight."

Anxiety visibly relaxed, then leaned back on the stairs. He was the only one who looked happy with this decision however, the other three personalities made their frustration very obvious.

Roman thrust his hands into the air dramatically and said "Oh come _on_!"

Logan had sighed deeply, turning to Thomas and pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration.

Patton looked clearly crestfallen, his arms falling heavily to his sides and his lips bursting forth into a pointed pout.

"Well, that's my cue." Anxiety stretched, looking extremely smug and sank down to his room in the mindscape.

Now alone, he let his smirk slide off his face and took a moment to steady his breathing. The darkest trait sat heavily on his bed with a grunt, put his face in his hands, and tried to slow his heartbeat...

He didn't enjoy his job. Especially when he felt he had to go the extra mile.

Hey lay back to rest his head on his pillow, trying to block out the commotion that had broken out in what Virgil judged to be the common room: the others must be back.

He didn't expect a knock.

As he curled into a ball, trying to block out the fresh looks of frustration and disappointment that had graced the faces of his counterparts, he couldn't help but wonder whether he would even open the door to a knock anyway.

 


	2. Catch 22

"...we have to  _do_  something Patton! I swear Anxiety is getting more powerful! We're losing to him far too much for it to be healthy for Thomas..."

"Oh Roman, I hope you're not  _seriously_  taking score!" Patton chided.

"'Course I'm not!-" Roman began indignantly, folding his arms.

"I am."

The two traits started, Logan had been relatively (and uncharacteristically) quiet so far. He stood in the doorway that led to the main corridor. He was stroking his chin gently, then gestured for them to follow.

Logan led the personalities in silence to a plain brown door - the second door down along the hallway.

Roman gave Patton an apprehensive look: they weren't usually very welcome in Logan's room, their strong emotions wouldn't exactly fit in well in the resting place of the embodiment of Logic after all.

Roman had expected for every inch of the walls to be covered in papers - that's how he would have decorated his room if he had been the Logic trait, by sprawling information everywhere to really put the point across. 

As it was, the room was extremely bare. Brown wallpaper...light blue carpet...no posters. One wall was completely obscured by a floor to ceiling bookcase that was positively crammed with textbooks and folders. Along another wall was a simple desk with a wall planner above it, and in the opposite corner was Logan's bed.

"It's so  _plain_!" Roman exclaimed. Quickly registering Pattons' pointed look, he hurriedly added "I mean...It's minimalistic! Very, er..." Everything was either brown or blue. "...on trend???"

"You don't have to appreciate the organisation of it, Roman."

"No, of course I must! You are our gracious host. Yes, very organised...that's excellent Logan! Though, I would happily loan you a Big Hero 6 poster or something..."

Patton coughed loudly, cutting off the Prince. He instead looked at Logan expectantly.

"Yes, thank you Patton." Logan grabbed the open folder from his desk and held it up for them to see. The two page spread that was on display showed a series of categories, observations and calculations.

"Wow, yes, Logan. You have indeed been keeping score."

"If you direct you eyes to the right bottom corner of the left page, you'll see a summary of the data I've collected over the previous three months in the form of a pie chart - "

"Mmmmm pie..."

"Patton please..."

"What do the colours mean!?" Patton smiled in spite of himself, knowing that Logan wasn't a five colours kind of guy.

"They each represent a rank - from 1 to 5 - in the system I devised to assess the logic and validity of Anxieties... err...  _suggestions_. For example, green indicates the portion of decisions I judged - beyond reasonable doubt - to have been successful suggestions from Anxiety that effectively kept Thomas safe and alive. Now, please do note that this is based on my learned opinion and not on..."

"Yeah, Yeah Einstein we get it, go on." Roman was growing impatient - Patton supposed the bland environment was slowly draining the creator.

Logan rolled his eyes. "My point is...red indicates definite instances when Anxiety has clearly overstepped in his duties."

Patton grimaced sadly. "That's a lot of red..."

"Correct, plus this is the third weekend in a row that Anxiety has successfully managed to convince Thomas to cancel his plans for frivolous social interaction. Now, personally I would not view this as an issue if Thomas was using the time effectively on productive matters - "

"Now Logan," Patton assumed his stock pose with his hands on his hips and leaning in. You could say it was... _pattonising_. "That's not fair! Thomas gets caught up on lots of important matters - "

"Steven Universe is not an important matter." 

Patton and Roman gasped, Princy fully taking a step back and stumbling as though he had been shot. 

"HOW could you allege..."

"It is incredibly important to..."

"Enough." Logan used his free hand to massage his left temple, while he put the folder down on the desk. The stakes were high, it should not be this difficult to get through to them. "How do you propose we proceed?"

Patton opened his mouth, then closed it again and sat down on Logan's bed, eliciting only a slight sigh of annoyance from Logan as the previously perfectly laid duvet was creased. The move however, suggested encouragingly to Logan that even Patton - who was definitely the rashest of them all - seemed to understand the delicacy of the situation at hand. 

"We...we could just go talk with him? Very calmly? We could show him we want to work with him..." Patton suggested optimistically.

"All three of us?" Logan replied skeptically. "He will no doubt feel cornered and likely under attack. Any calmness or sincerity displayed may be interpreted negatively."

Roman shared a half impressed, half weirded out look with Patton at Logics' rather insightful perception of emotions all of a sudden. Not missing their shock, Logan gestured to the other books on his desk. "I have been studying up." 

Roman shook his head, trying to focus again. 

"Just one of us then?" He offered grudgingly after a moment.

Logan sighed. "I doubt Anxiety will view it as an authoritative opinion or anything other than a manifestation of a perceived personal vendetta from the person selected."

"...Well how about they take your graph thingy? That could be authority enough..."

"Then he will think we are spying on him, grading him even."

"You kinda did do that Teach."

Logan clicked his tongue frustratedley at Roman.

"May I be the one to remind you Prince Roman, that _you_  were the one who brought up the possibility of Anxiety becoming more influential. I merely gathered evidence and data before I made a judgement about this trend."

"A-And besides!" Patton interjected quickly, hands in the air as if he was casting an invisible barrier between the two annoyed traits. Things were definitely starting to get heated, he could see the angry flush in Princy's cheeks and how Logan's lips and all but disappeared he was piercing them so hard. "The last thing he needs is numbers that could potentially support his toxic views of himself...or the ones he used to think were coming from us! We've come too far to go back to square one."

The room fell silent, everyone deep in thought. Logan finally pulled his chair out from his desk and sat down, pushing his glasses up onto his eyebrows as he rubbed his eyes. He sighed. He had gone through all that, and he had progressed no further. He hated having a problem he couldn't solve, particularly about feelings...

"I asked you both here, because I do not know what to do." Logan hesitated, expecting a sly comment from Roman. For once, the royal contained himself.

"Yeah Logan," sighed Patton, leaning back on the bed more. 

"It's a real Catch 22." Roman observed, his anger abating into something that resembled hopelessness. 

"I do not see how sport could possibly come into this Roman." 


	3. The Watcher

**_ A/N: Trigger Warnings: More Virgil having trouble with regular breathing, some slight self-dislike, mentions of dead whales in the fourth paragraph (not graphic). _ **

Thomas didn't see his sides again that weekend, but he did take a break from Netflix in order to watch the new David Attenborough Documentaries on the Oceans - just to make sure that Anxiety didn't get too much of a lecture from Logan about " _productivity_ ".

Truthfully, he was thankful for the break. He had been feeling very drained recently, something he was sure that Anxiety had noticed, and he appreciated him pushing for rest over interaction. Though his methods sometimes were just as exhausting...

Being grateful? Thomas frowned. He would have to keep an eye on  _that_  habit.

~

Virgil had never been a great sleeper. If he was even slightly concerned about something, well, let's just say that being horizontal was not conducive to adequately working lungs. He supposed it was something to do with gravity? Like when whales that wash up onshore are at risk of being crushed by their own weight...

He decided to think about ask Logan...or preferably Google...before he got too anxious about the possibilities of whale strandings... 

He felt a familiar stab of guilt as his mind switched back to Friday. Would it really have been so bad to let that one pass?

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, trying to cut the tracks off before the train went to a place he didn't want it to. Thomas was an adult...he makes his own decisions...

Yeah. That argument wasn't going to fly tonight. Virgil gasped as he realized he had forgotten to breath.

He started to consciously control his irregular breathing...

_In for seven..._

Was there a way to sleep vertically?

_Hold for five..._

He supposed he could hang upside down from the roof if he installed an exercise bar up there?

_Out for Eight..._

The others probably already thought he was a vampire, ever sucking Thomas' happiness and reveling in the dark as he did...

**"you don't suck happiness virgil"**

Virgil frowned at the voice, instantly on guard. Since when were the voices in his head so positive?

**"i'm telling the truth. you don't suck happiness"**

Virgil's breathing started to relax a little. He could get used to this...

**" _i do_."**

Suddenly, instead of panicking at the clear change of tone, Virgil slumped into sleep, breathing perfectly.

~

"...so you see Thomas, the graph shows that Anxieties successful suggestions are more than 60% between the ranks of 1 and 3...which in that quantity is simply too high for the ordinary person to have to deal with."

Patton shifted awkwardly in his usual spot in Thomas' living room. He hated going to Thomas first, before talking to Anxiety. It just...it wasn't right...but it was the only plan that had seemed reasonable. 

Thomas, for his part, tried to not look too upset or scared. 

"Surely, he must have his reasons."

"It's not malicious!" Patton piped up quickly.

"...we think."

" _ROMAN_."

"Do you think I should...talk to him?"

Logan hesitated, "It's a delicate situation."

"We don't want to risk setting him off." Roman advised cautiously. 

Patton shook his head sadly, but stayed silent.

~

Virgil opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the image of Patton looking sad but resolutely silent. The familiar living room setting melted away as his own dark room came into focus.

Virgil sat up, and noticed that his bed and clothes were soaked with sweat.

The boy shivered.

That was... _odd_.


	4. The Truth

**_ A/N: Trigger Warnings: mild negative self thoughts, mention of panic attacks (but none occur),  mention of breathing difficulties (though none occur). _ **

Virgil did something he hadn't done since Friday...

He went somewhere that wasn't his bedroom or the bathroom.

The kitchen smelled so good that it made Virgil's mouth salivate and his stomach grumble, reminding him that it too hadn't been anywhere near food since Friday either. Laughing, he grabbed a couple of what had to be Patton's freshly home-made cookies (all cut into heart shapes, of course) and fetched a glass of water from the sink. 

He felt...lighter?

Crunching on the cookie, he ascended to the physical realm. 

It didn't concern Virgil that reality seemed to replicate his dream, down to the five colours on the graph that Logan hurriedly tried to hide.

"How're you doing there Champ?" Patton was probably the best actor of them all, though none really realised this. He hid his concern and panic underneath his classic Patton charm and smile, looking encouragingly at Virgil.

The others were not so adept at hiding their shock and embarrassment.

"VIRGIL! Hello, excuse me I was not startled." Roman's hand quickly whipped off the hilt of his sword in it's scabbard on his waist.

Logan looked apprehensive. Thomas, scared.

 _Maybe_  it was because he had been feeling a little better for the first time in ages.

 _Maybe_  it was because he had had his first sleep in eons without battling for every breath. 

 _Maybe_  it was due to the fact he hadn't made it to a shower yet and the morning sweat still looked extremely apparent on his skin and clothes.

Virgil started shivering.

Patton was over like a shot, and carefully used his grey cardigan to wrap around the shoulders of the Younger personality like a blanket. Virgil was on his stairs as usual. Logan and Roman were eyeing Thomas wearily...

... _expectantly_...

It clicked.

"I'm not going to make him have a panic attack."  _That's not how it works anyway._

"They didn't think that..." Patton started.

"No, no. It's okay Patton. They were preparing for the worst. That is usually what my presence means, after all."

"Please don't clock out again." Thomas managed nervously, clasping his hands together.

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Thomas visibly relaxed. "Good, because we all lo-"

"If you die, we die right? That's hardly in my interests at all." Virgil finished coldly, eyes narrowed. He was sick of it. "Gimme the graph." 

As he said that, the crisp image from his dream floated to the front of his mind. 

"Nevermind." Virgil muttered, realising he had already memorised the damn thing. He frowned. "I understand. But I swear...this isn't completely my fault..." He was desperate. 

" ** _numbers don't lie._** "

"...I think something's off with Thomas." 

Roman's eyes narrowed. The air got thick, but, in Virigl's mind, it was only screaming two words:  _yeah. you._  

Virgil closed his mouth and swallowed hard, then fended off one of Patton's guilt-hugs.

"Fine." He sank down without looking at any of them.

Thomas grabbed Pattons' arm as he moved to follow.

"I think you should give him a little space for now."

~

Virgil tried not to freak out, so he grounded himself by latching onto the issue plaguing him: the voice.

This was not some disembodied voice that usually dogged him - it had sounded slightly different from the start. But those negative thoughts came from him...and as far as he knew he did not have some omnipresent dream power to spy on his counterparts and host. 

Virgil cleared his voice.

"So...who are you anyway?" He had tried to sound confident, to cover up how foolish he felt despite his surety. His heartbeat started to quicken as he gazed around his  _definitely_  empty room.

...

...

...

" _ **Very adept, Virgil.**_ "

Virgil frowned. They (it?) used his name...

" _ **Of course I used your name. I am Truth.**_ "


	5. A Friend

Virgil sat down quickly on his bed, massaging his temples.

"If _you're_ truth, why are you hidden?"

" _ **sometimes the truth is hard to find**_."

Virgil scoffed and lifted his head up. He was _definitely_ going crazy. That sentiment squarely belonged too...

" _ **patton**_."

Virgil balled his fists and thumped them hard onto his bed, trying to keep himself grounded and calm.

"GREAT! So what? I'm _so_ starved of any sense of morality that I invented one all for myself?" He was getting upset, despite his best efforts. He was _scared_ and _lonely_ and _done with it all._

_**"i am still one of thomas' sides...well, i will be soon, i think. i split from patton not too long ago, and have been forming as my own entity for a while now..."**   
_

"How come only I can hear you?" He was sure that the others would have said something if they could hear it too.

" _ **you were the only one that bothers to listen."**_

Virgil frowned. He supposed the others were a loud, busy, chatty bunch.

"What about my...dream?"

" _ **i was showing you the truth"**_

Virgil laid back onto his bed, determination filling his body.

"Do it again."

Virgil could have sworn he had heard a small sigh.

~

Thomas dismissed the others and went back to bed.

The other three ate in a sullen silence in the mindspace kitchen. The sound of utensils on crockery, swallowing, and general dinner-time noises combined to make a pained crescendo that made Virgil grit his teeth. He was anxious just watching this tight tableau of tension, and he was grateful that he was only watching.

He looked at his hands - they were transparent. He gaped in awe at the phenomenom and looked around for Truth. As far as he could tell, Truth hadn't been able to take form.

" _ **they're trying to solve the issue**_ "

"Problem you mean..." If you could hear facial expressions change, Virgil swore he could hear Truth frown.

" _ **they're doing their best to help both you and thomas.**_ "

Virgil put his hands in his hoodie pockets moodily.

"It's always me or him." He wasn't bitter, just sad.

The scene faded to black. Virgil looked around, he seemed a little more solid here, more opaque than transparent. A single orb of light floated lazily in the centre of the...room? 

Virgil supposed they must be...

" _ **the back of the mind.**_ "

Virgil nodded, removing his hands from his pockets. His unease was...slowly ebbing away. The orb was about the size of a soft ball, and it's light gave off a reassuring warmth that calmed Virgil.

" _ **thank you for talking to me...it was really nice.**_ "

A lump rose in Virgil's throat. Truth seemed so...sad? Lonely?

His suspicions he put away like a trusty knife. He sighed. 

"Anytime."

~

" _...this_ time, surely!" 

Roman was pacing. Logic had his hands clasped before his face, almost like he was in prayer. Patton's smile was forced. 

They were all so tired. It had been weeks of steadily growing panic, paranoia, and discord.

"There is obviously something wrong with Virgil! This is completely irrational behaviour." 

"Well he _is_ an irrational guy-"

"Roman, kindly be productive here."

"I'm just saying! Even before all this he represented an irrational side of Thomas!"

"Well, we will just have to _sort him out_."

~

Virgil sat up, fear in his eyes and panic on his breath.

To see Patton... _Patton_ say those words...with that grim expression...and that hardened tone...

Patton had finally given up on him.

"Good." Virgil sniffed. 

Actually, he didn't feel so good.


	6. Chocolate and Childish Chums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil tries to chat it out with the other sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N (Spoiler) Trigger Warning:  
> Crying and starting of a panic attack (not really described) at the end.

Virgil woke the next morning with a splitting headache. He groaned and turned over raising his covers over his head to shield himself from life.

" _ **morning virgil."**_

"Morning...Truth."

Virgil felt...comforted? Usually to hear a peppy voice in the morning he had to brave the commons for breakfast with Patton. It was nice to have it in his own safe space for once. Despite his headache, he smiled. 

He wasn't alone anymore.

"Hey,  do you have a name? _Truth_ is a little formal."

_**"i'll tell you if you take a shower, then hang with me at the back of the mind for a bit?"** _

The voice was small and shy, Virgil understood the tone immediately: Truth was lonely, and was trying to ask for help, but he didn't want to manipulate his only connection either. Virgil couldn't by nature miss the note of anxiety there either.

"Of course! But why-"

" _ **the shower? you haven't had one in a while and you need to take care of yourself.**_ "

Virgil groaned and sat up. 

"You  _sure_ you're not a Patton I personally invented?"

Truth laughed. It was light and full of sunshine and hope. Virgils' breathing evened. 

He grabbed his towel from the ground, but then hesitated.

"You, erm, don't-"

" _ **look at you in the shower? of course not. though i must point out that when i'm fully formed i will look exactly like you and thomas. but do not fear virgil, it wouldn't be truthful to pry or spy.**_ "

Virgil nodded shyly.

~

Roman was bouncing around, positively brimming with excitement. Even Logan struggled to contain his relief and happiness.

Patton was, of course, the happiest of all, gazing proudly around Thomas' living room. Virgil was the only one who was missing.

"...and  _then_ what happened Thomas?!" Roman prompted.

"I  _rang_ Joan and Talyn to organise to meet them for a movie of  _my choice,_ and not only did I actually go, I BOUGHT THE TICKETS off the cashier PERSONALLY!" The boy beamed. Patton applauded and Thomas bowed.

"It seems Virgil has indeed managed to find his balance again." Logan tried not to sound too relieved as he adjusted his glasses, but the last few months had been tough for Logic.

"We must go celebrate with him!" Patton exclaimed. Thomas held out his hands to caution the Father figure.

"Virgil must be really tired, I think today would have taken just about everything in him." Thomas looked around and relieved to see his sides nodding in understanding and agreement. It hit him how exhausted they all looked: Logans' usually meticulous shirt had crinkles in it, Patton's cardigan was tied much looser than normal, and Princey's White top looked dirty. 

"You guys better get some rest, another big day tomorrow! If you see Virgil, can you please thank him for me, okay?" 

The personalities nodded again and tried not to look too grateful for the opportunity to escape further interaction. They all collectively sank down to the mindspace kitchen.

There they found the second surprise of the day: Virgil, who had apparantly made four delicious looking hot chocolates, each with a finish of whipped cream, a trickle of chocolate sauce, and three marshmallows. 

He was just putting the final touches on his masterpieces: grating chocolate on top - when Patton startled him.

"What's all this kiddo?" He had his hands on his hips and his expression was one of curious delight.

Virgils blush was apparent even under the tonne of makeup he always wore.

He cleared his throat...he had rehearsed this all day with Truth at the back of the mind...

"I...er...thought it was about time we had a serious chat about Thomas and I...and the last few months-" Virgil was cut off abruptly by Patton who launched towards him and latched on in a fierce hug. Virgil dropped the grater and the chocolate on the floor and heard it clang loudly. He winced. 

Roman picked them up quickly: the grater's handle seemed to be broken and the chocolate had shattered into a few smaller blocks. Virgil felt his stomach churn.

"I...I'm sorry..." Virgil stammered, embarrassed. 

"Nonsense...Virgil. It was no trouble at all. The grater was old anyway and I can fix it!" Princey puffed out his chest as the grater bent and mended itself in his hands. Perks of being creativity, Virgil guessed. 

Roman smiled encouragingly, trying his best to show Virgil his gratitude.

Logan sat down at the table as Patton finally let go of Virgil.

"These look...very nice Virgil. Thank You." Logan tried not to sound too surprised. He took a large sip and to his absolute horror: he let out an involuntary moan.

" _Am I dreaming?_ " Virgil silently asked Truth, as he gaped at the mortified Logical trait. 

" _ **no, that did just actually happen.**_ " Truth's delight and glee made Virgil feel okay to start to giggle.

Logans eyes were wide open with shock and embarrassment as Roman and Patton absolutely lost it. Virgil started laughing harder too.

Logan composed himself, ever the picture of dignity, and pierced his lips together. He still hadn't realised that he had a whipped cream mustache, which somewhat cracked the facade for the others.

"Well, it  _was_ a very satisfying drink Virgil-"

Roman started howling, months of worry and tension all being burned away by the insane laughter that was bubbling through him. 

"Who knew Virgil could be so good at giving you SATISFACTION!" The Prince managed.

Logan started to laugh too, finally conceding that they all needed this  _so badly._

The others took their seats and took a deep sip from their own cups...

Each moaned, similarly to Logan. The four started cackling again, revelling in the simplicity and childishness of it.

It became a game: everytime someone took a sip, they would try to illicit a larger response by making more and more obscene noises...while maintaining all their lovely white moustaches. 

It finally ended with Patton clearing away the dishes and all four of them lapsing into a content silence, wiping the tears from their eyes and the remains of their mustaches away.

"So...what happened with Thomas today?" Virgil figured he would ask while the others were calm and happy - and before he chickened out. He could feel Truth egging him on at the back of his head. The odd feeling in his stomach felt like...confidence?

Roman clapped him jovially on his back. "As if you don't know!"

Virgil giggled, feeling slightly confused. Logan picked up on this immediately.

"Thomas had the optimal day and completed several arduous and stressful tasks that usually...err...might have seemed like too much for him. Without a hitch."

Virgil vaguely noticed his heartbeat picking up.

"Whatever you did, you really nailed it son!" Patton sat back down, beaming. 

" _Truth, what happens to me when I go to the back of the mind?_ " Virgil thought carefully, trying his best not to assume the worst.

"We are back on track I feel, and I'm feeling more creative by the second!" Roman pronounced.

Virgil felt his stomach lurch. He hadn't done  _anything._..

" _ **i think...i think the back of the mind may have, dulled you? muffled you? while you were there...**_ " Truth sounded unsure, apprehensive. 

" _So I basically disappeared...no one noticed...and Thomas had the best day ever?"_ Virgil surmised.

The others were still looking at him eagerly...proudly...

Relieved? 

Virgil plastered on his signature smirk. 

"I just played Disney songs all day instead of My Chemical Romance."

Roman jumped up and pumped the air in delight. "YES! ANOTHER WIN FOR THE DISNEY KINGDOM!"

Virgil faked a yawn, and thankfully Patton started fussing, as he'd hoped.

"Well, don't worry about that, you scamper off to bed now son. You've done great today! I'll make you your favourite breakfast tomorrow morning and we can chat more then! If you feel like it, of course." 

Virgil gratefully escaped the kitchen, the dream had quickly devolved into a nightmare...

His breathing hitched as he stumbled into his room.

He closed the door softly.

" _ **i'm...i'm so sorry virgil.**_ " Truth sounded like he had had the wind kicked out of him.

Virgil just sank down to the ground, curled into a ball, and just started to cry.


	7. Happy Meals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger Warning: vomiting and crying at the start. Virgil is sad. This is about self care. 
> 
> Note:  
> Thank you so much for the kind comments and Kudos left after the last chapter, you all really made my day <3

Each of the Sides' rooms in the mindscape were completely soundproof, something that Logan had always been incredibly grateful for. He did not need to hear whatever ridiculous antics he imagined that Roman got up to on the daily. Logan had his personal bets that his room was either a 24/7 musical production, or a dreamscape where there was always a battle to be fought and a maiden to be saved.

Logan himself had on occasion conducted scientific experiments in his own room (when the common spaces were being otherwise engaged) and had concluded that - as the others hadn't heard one or two  _minor_ explosions from mistakes or failures - their rooms would block out everything, unless it was right beside their doors. 

He had shared his discoveries with the others with satisfaction, but he didn't know that he was not the first to have tested the limits of sound in their rooms.

It was one reason why Virgil felt so comfortable in his room, after all. 

Virgil had managed to move himself to his bed - with Truth's encouragement - and didn't bother to censor his wounded howls. He wrapped his duvet around him, craving warmth and security, craving safety...

Craving...

" _ **i don't think that's a good idea right now.**_ "

Virgil pulled his head under the cover, making it a complete cocoon.

" _Great._ " He thought miserably. "You don't even want the only person that can physically speak to you to visit you anymore."

Virgil could feel Truth's emotions flare. There was pity...understanding...frustration...and something else Virgil couldn't place.

" _ **no, i mean...i would love to see you. but i don't want you to lock yourself away permanently, or for too often...we have no idea what the ramifications could be.**_ "

Who cared.  

Today had definitively proved that Thomas could only function best if his anxiety was dulled to the point of...what? Nearly non-existence? 

He wasn't needed here. A shade of himself was.

" _ **virgil, you can't risk fading.**_ "

The Duvet was wet with Virgils tears, and through his shivering, he could feel that his skin was slick with sweat. 

He was shaking. He was weak. He was...

The room was spinning.

Virgil raced to the bathroom, dragging the duvet - as it was still tangled around him. 

White spots appeared on his vision as he retched, desperately hoping there was an element of soundproofing in the bathroom as well.

The hot chocolate came up, as well as the half a dozen small snacks he had consumed over the day.

After what seemed like an age of dry retching on his empty stomach, Virgil collapsed on the tiles of the bathroom floor, drawing his duvet around him and shakily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

" _ **you need to sleep, buddy.**_ "

"Don't wanna." Virgil croaked, throat sore.

" ** _someone could come in..._** "

Virgil's stomach lurched uncomfortably again. He did  _not_ want or need the fuss.

"'Kay."

As quietly as he could, Virgil picked himself slowly up from the floor, and moved shakily out of the bathroom - using the wall to brace against for support.

Once again in his bedroom, Virgil just collapsed with his trusty duvet, having absolutely no intention of moving ever again. Fresh tears weaned their way down his face as he reviewed how pathetic he must look.

_**"listen virgil. i want you to get into bed and drink that glass of water on your bedside table. you'll then try to get to sleep. in the morning, i want you to get up and eat whatever breakfast patton makes you."** _

Virgil snorted in derision. He could feel Truth sigh.

" _ **fine. i'll make you a deal: if you do all that, i'll let you come visit me again.**_ "

Virgil looked up shyly, and gave a slight nod.

He willed his aching body to scramble the last few feet to his bed.

"Thank you, Truth." Virgil muttered.

" _ **tristan.**_ "

"I'm sorry?" Virgil croaked, exhausted eyes already closing.

" _ **my name is tristan.**_ "

Even half asleep, Virgil noted the importance of the moment. So he did what he always did: he played it down.

"I'mma call you  _Stan_ cause it's funnier." Virgil slipped away into sleep, exhaustion finally giving way. He was not awake to hear Tristan smile, a little sad but also a little hopeful.

" _ **yes, i'd like that...verge.**_ "

~

A  _face_ stared back at him. 

Virgil blinked, trying to recall  _any_ moment he had ever given Patton cause to believe that his favourite breakfast was...this?

Two sunny side up eggs for eyes, a few strips of bacon for a frown...and...

"PANCAKE SLICES FOR HAIR!!!" Patton exclaimed excitedly. "That was my own input!"

The 'hair' was arranged to look like spiky locks...in a way that in no way resembled either Virgil or Thomas. 

The effect was quite astounding. 

Virgil managed a smile of gratitude to Patton, and started to slowly munch on a piece of bacon. 

As he pondered  _whenever_ he may have indicated he would like to eat a frowny faced breakfast, a hazy memory floated into focus...

_"Well I think breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Logan puffed. "Which meal is the 'happiest' is both an illogical question and something that can't be quantifyably measured."_

_"WELL I think they're ALL the happiest meals if you share them with good company!"_

_Virgil snorted. Roman rounded on him like a shot, grin on his face._

_"I suppose YOU prefer UNhappy meals at McDonalds!?" Not his best...but hey it was Monday, am I right??_

_Virgil just leaned forward dramatically._

_"My favourite meal is a face made up of breakfast food, bacon mouth in a perpetual frown, so I can consume and win against a symbol of discord and happiness, hopefully an indicator that that day will not in fact, be a series of failures and losses."_

_Roman blinked, trying to figure out whether Virgil was winding him up again or not._

Virgil smiled, a spark of bittersweet gratitude flickering in his stomach.

Oh _Patton_.


	8. New Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of the sides settle into new routines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger warning: mentions of "blood" but not actual blood.

Virgil ate enough to silence both the voices of Patton and Stan: which amounted to 3/4's a bowl of porridge and half a glass of orange juice. He had just finished putting his dishes away, thanked Patton, and turned to leave when...

Roman bounced in and leaned on the door frame, inadvertently blocking Virgils' path. Roman looked pumped and rearing to go.

"I'm going to have the BEST creative session EVER today! Watch the fountain of dreams and ideas burst forth from me like a volcano!" 

"A very mixed metaphor there Roman...but, errr, good luck in your endevours." Logan replied, just starting to wash his own dishes. Virgil shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Now make sure you wrap up warmly there Princy, wouldn't want you getting sick now would we." Patton looked up from his own bowl of porridge, nagging gently.

Roman huffed, not exactly getting the reaction he required, but then finally seemed to catch on to the fact that Virgil was wanting to leave - and he was blocking the doorway.

"Oh, ah, sorry...Friendooooo!" Roman moved aside and clapped Virgil on the back as he moved through, happy with himself for being so in tune with the youngers' feelings for once. 

He looked up to see the others staring at him with odd looks on their faces.

"What?"

Patton just face-palmed. 

~

The back of the mind was the same as the last time Virgil had been there: perpetual darkness, solely lit by Tristan's floating ball of essence. Although...

"You're growing!" 

The orb of light was now elongated, stretched further down. It was now more of a cylinder shape.

" _ **it seems so virgil. hopefully i can take form soon.**_ " Stan sounded tired and Virgil frowned: that was his job. He sat cross-legged and reveled in the feelings of warmth and calmness that washed over him.

"Well, in the meantime..." Virgil smiled, shuffling in his pocket. "Wanna play cards?"

~

Roman charged forwards, clashing with his enemy with such force that the shock wave disturbed the birds in the trees nearby. 

The Prince didn't hesitate, but struck again: clashing sword against axe, until he finally managed to trip the troll up with his fancy footwork. 

Panting, Roman walked over to the defeated foe, and pinned him down by resting on the trolls chest with his ornate boot.

"What sent you into this Kingdom?" The troll blinked up at the Prince and gaped...Roman didn't blame him. Being creativity had its perks...

The troll was panting hard, clothes marred by sweat and dirt.

Roman had looked quite the same until only a moment ago.

Noe he looked picture perfect: unblemished white suit practically blinding the rogue who could only stare timidly up at his captor. 

Roman moved his sword to rest just above the trolls throat in answer to his stubborn silence.

"SPEAK."

"I - I - ""

"You come into MY Kingdom, scare MY subjects and, what? Did you poison this meadow or just introduce it to your personality?" Roman was seething, too angry to think of a good quip. 

The grass around him was brown, brittle and lifeless. The flowers - which usually showed a whole spectrum of impossibly vivid colours - lay drooped, dead, and dull. 

No one messes with Romans COLOUR SCHEME.

The troll visibly panicked, shaking and spluttering. 

"It wasn't me, I - I swear!"

"Then WHO!?"

The Troll pointed shakily southwards, past Roman's head, where there looked like there was bad weather on the horizon. Roman turned to look, and frowned.  _He_ hadn't scheduled a thunderstorm? Perhaps Virgil was messing with him again...

Roman's split second loss of concentration gave the troll the opening it needed. He grabbed Romans' boot with both hands and pushed it up off his chest. 

Roman fell heavily onto his back, the sword in his hand swiping down as he did so...

The troll screamed and scrambled away into the woods.

Dazed, Roman lifted his head, seeing nobody. He cursed and wiped his blade on the dead grass around him, slowly cleaning the black sludge off before pushing himself up onto his feet once more.

There was no death in the dreamscape. If a 'good' being like Roman was stabbed and injured, he would 'bleed' glitter. If he was outright killed he would simply respawn in his castle. Both events would leave the being tired and very sore, but essentially fine.

The same could be said for the 'bad' beings, though they 'bled' black goo and respawned deep in the darkest forests, usually taking some time.

Roman looked back at the threatening weather storm and dissipated it with a wave of his hand, frowning.

"Read the forecast." He said dully. 

He sighed, puffed out his chest and began to run into the woods that surrounded him, but paused in his pursuit at the edge of the meadow. 

He swiveled back round and fixed the clearing with another wave of his hand: the grass slowly became greener and softer. The flowers sprung back up almost comically. 

There would be none of that today.

Romans' smile grew as he twirled around and leaped off after his quarry, not looking back once.

~

The deal Virgil had agreed to was 1:3 - for every hour he spent in the back of the mind with Stan, he had to spend at least three out of it. Stan had been very uneasy even with this compromise, wanting to make sure that this wouldn't effect Virgil or Thomas badly.

Virgil also had to have three sit down meals with the others every day. 

He had agreed to these terms wholeheartedly, and surprised himself by settling into the new routine quickly.

He would never miss Pattons' face breaking out into a gigantic, ecstatic smile whenever Virgil moped into the kitchen for a meal. 

Virgil had never really been the type to enjoy the social interaction that surrounded mealtime in the mindscape, but somehow the time spent in the back of the mind helped offset his unease enough so that Virgil could deal with it.

Roman had himself settled into a routine - though, as he was the representative of spontaneity, he would hardly admit this to himself. 

Every day he would grab an early breakfast and spend all morning in the dreamscape. 

His feet would take him almost automatically to the meadow. Its state each time had by now - four days in - stopped eliciting Roman's frustrated response.

Every morning, without fail, no matter what Roman had done to fix it the day before...the meadow was dead.


	9. Early Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil isn't the only early bird with things on his mind this morning.  
> T/W - Virgil feels sick at the end.

Virgil yawned, nursing an early morning headache, and tried to make as little noise as possible as he moved down the hallway and into the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find it empty - it was exceedingly early.

He grabbed an apply from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and took a bite, leaning against the counter lazily. 

 _ **"You better be having more than that."**_ Stan chided. 

"Oh come on! I've already ruined every breakfast food that's known to man." Virgil swallowed and moved to sit down at the table, suddenly feeling very weak. 

When was the last time he had successfully kept a meal down for more than twenty minutes? Being on a proper, healthy food schedule had never been a strong point for Virgil, but even he was starting to get concerned about what this might mean.

_**"You need to tell them."** _

"Na, I don't want them to worry."

_**"Virgil - "** _

"Look, I'll just try eating a little less but more often, okay?" Virgil pleaded. It was  _too early_ to be able to deal with this - it was one of the reasons he wanted to get in before Patton was up...

_**"I swear, if you're still sick when I form I'll kick your ass."** _

Despite how weak and awful Virgil felt, he couldn't help but give in to a small smile: Tristan was  _so close_ to forming. His 'light' had grown to the point where it was more or less in a humanoid shape.

Though Virgil was looking forward to having his friend in the real world, he couldn't help but indulge in those ugly feelings that were bubbling away inside him.

_**"Penny for your thoughts?"** _

Virgil hesitated, not wanting to seem pathetic or needy. He took another bite of his apple, and decided to hit on one of the less emotionally charged issues plaguing him.

"How can I get to the back of the mind if you're not there to bring me in?"

_**"...That may be a question for Logan, sorry. I don't know the ins and outs of the mindspace. Come on though Virgil, there's something else, I can tell."** _

"It's nothing..." Virgil hunched his shoulders, trying not to feel so awkward and stupid. "I just...I dunno. I just kind of like that..." He felt like a selfish dick for even thinking it, and the words caught in his throat. 

_**"Virgil, I'm not going to abandon you just because I'll be able to interact with the others."** _

Virgil nodded, taking another bite of his apple. He was glad Tristan was good at picking up on these insecurities of his, and that he never made Virgil feel like he was a pain for needing affirmation constantly. 

"Thanks buddy. I can't wait to see what you look like. Bet you look like a nerd - "

"Virgil?"

Virgil froze, apple halfway to his mouth. His back had been facing the door, a rare lapse in judgement that he now cursed himself vehemently for.

Roman came into view, moving cautiously around the table and into Virgils' line of sight.

Virgil shrank a little more. Despite the ungodly early hour, Roman was all done up prim and proper, ready for the day. Virgil almost hissed at the bright whiteness of his counterparts' blazer. 

Virgil, in comparison, was wearing dark, fluffy, purple pajamas and hadn't even applied his signature make up yet.

Despite Romans' dapper appearance, he looked uncharacteristically solemn.

"Who were you talking to?" Roman tried not to look to accusatory, and sat down in the chair opposite to Virgil in an attempt to appear less threatening (Patton had been giving them all secret lessons on how best to make Virgil feel at ease.)

"Myself." Virgil shrugged. He could almost feel Stan twitch, like he always did when Virgil lied.

 _'Come on, it's technically true.'_ Virgil thought back, bracing himself for the 'humorous' jabs from Roman that were sure to come.

Roman narrowed his eyes slightly and pursed his lips as he scanned Virgils' face in deep thought. Virgil shifted uncomfortably, and wished desperately for his hoodie to hide in.

"No offence, Virgil, but you look a little...disheveled." Roman raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. Usually, he wouldn't press too far - at least not sincerely - but he had to find something else to focus his busy mind on at that moment.

Virgil scoffed, crossing his arms tight. 

"You're one to talk! You - " Virgil paused in the delivery of his come-back as Romans' eyes met his. Actually, if he was being honest...Roman did look a little crap. He suspected that the slight bags he could make out under the others' eyes would be much more pronounced if Roman hadn't been wearing so much make-up. His hair was limper than usual, and Virgil couldn't spot one speck of glitter on the Prince. "You don't...look so good either."

Instead of being mad or offended or indignant, Roman ran a hand through his hair and managed a smile. It was...kinda nice, for once, for these two opposites to be able to express concern without it being conceived as criticism. 

"Big day ahead. Been a big week actually - trouble in the Kingdom." 

Virgil nodded, but then regretted the action sincerely as he felt the room start to spin slightly. The initial shock of Roman walking into the kitchen seemed to be wearing off, and Virgil could suddenly recognise how awfully  _wet_ the back of his mouth felt, and how uneasily his stomach writhed. 

"Let me know if I can help with that - " Virgil made to stand up, but Roman caught his arm.

"I really mean it, you've been doing so well lately. You haven't been around, so you might not know, but Thomas has...has an audition today. After that, I swear we'll take a little break, have a little 'me' time, at least until we hear back from the audition." Roman was doing his best, but Virgil could only managed a pained smile as he gently tugged his arm out of the Princes' grip. 

His head was spinning, white spots popped in his vision. Virgil groaned slightly as he left the kitchen and headed for the bathroom, where he expected his apple would be making a rather quick exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a big thank you to all the readers so far, those who have left kudos, and for the lovely, supportive comments. You have no idea how much it means to be and I appreciate it so much <3 . You guys made my day!


	10. The Audition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little confrontational as the sides come together before Thomas' big audition.

Roman didn't even blink when he saw the dead meadow that morning - there was too much on his mind.

 _Was_ this Virgils fault? Was it unintentional, or...

No. He had struggled to work past that sentiment. Without proper evidence he wouldn't let it make a reprise.

Roman waved his right hand out sadly, and closed his eyes as he felt the magic leave him. He was  _tired._ The juice that it took to keep whatever this vile disease was at bay was taking a massive toll on him. 

He stumbled a little as a dizzy spell washed over him. 

Roman breathed in and out slowly and held out his hands to steady himself. 

The Prince opened his eyes, and let out a cry. It was somewhere between a kicked puppy and a choking bird.

The meadow was still dead.

Roman huffed out, and focused on a single flower. Summing up what little energy he had left, we held his hand out and willed it to live.

The flower lifted its head...then burst into dust.

Roman just stared, horrified, then turned on his heels and fled into the trees. 

To his surprise, as he ran, he blinked away tears. Frustration, fatigue, and confusion swirled inside him.

He skidded to a halt a what he judged to be about 200 metres away from the meadow. If he couldn't fix it, he'd have to just contain it. 

Roman took a steadying breath, and turned to face the direction he'd come from. He weaved his hands in the air before him, willing a dome of magic to encapsulate the dead meadow. Silver streams raced out before him, weaving and wrapping an intricate web around the perimeter, then thickened out to form a dome. 

Roman heaved a sigh, put his hands down, and straightened up. He'd never felt as drained as this befo-

Roman woke up in his castle. 

He gasped and sat up straight, wincing at the sharp pain in his chest and breathing heavily. Roman put his head in his hands.

One thing he knew for sure - he may be in over his head.

~

"You...died?" Patton looked horrified, hands clasped over his mouth.

"Well... _technically_ yes - but you can't  _actually_ die in the dreamscape, you just kinda...reset?" 

"OH ROMAN!" Patton sobbed, his glasses fogging up.

The three of them were in the mindscape living room - Patton was sitting on the edge of his armchair, facing a couch that Roman had splayed out on in exhaustion, and Logan was pacing in front of the TV. 

Virgil hadn't answered his door when Patton had gone to fetch him. 

Roman half halfheartedly checked his watch.

"Christ -" He sat up, but winced at the sudden movement and change of altitude. Patton was up like a shot, and helped stabilize the Prince by sitting next to him and holding him steady for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," Patton soothed him gently.

"No-no, the audition..."

"You're not well Roman - "

"Thomas must get this role."

Patton and Roman just stared at Logan, who had stopped pacing suddenly. He had been pretty silent ever since Roman had stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch...

"You...you don't usually, erm, care very much about this stuff..." Roman was too tired to be any more delicate.

"This is not some trivial stage show or, or, some small scale project. This is a major film franchise. Logically, the exposure and to be honest, the financial compensation is not something that Thomas can frankly afford not to do - "

"I agree with Logan." Virgil materialised in the corner, folding his arms and looking sullen. The other sides jumped at his sudden appearance, and Virgil raised an eyebrow. He tried his best not to sway - teleporting from the back of the mind had temporarily knocked him for one, his stomach lurched and his vision blurred. 

"Where have you been all day?" Roman asked frustradedly. Patton put his hand on his should but Roman shrugged it off. He wasn't trying to be aggressive...everything just felt so out of control...

"Around." Virgil shifted uncomfortably. He had come for  _Thomas,_ not to be interrogated. 

"Let's stay on topic for now." Despite the tension in the room, Logan was buoyed to have someone on his side. "Thomas is currently waiting for his audition, and we all need to focus on that." 

Roman stood up and clenched his fists to keep himself from groaning in pain.

Virgil sucked in air rather quick and recoiled slightly at the aggressive move, but stood his ground. 

"Somethings just not right." Roman muttered. 

There was a pained silence.

_**"Virgil, you need to tell them the truth."** _

Virgil broke his eye contact with Roman and looked down. 

 _ **"Buddy, you're sick, Roman doesn't look good either..."**_ He didn't look good, his face was blotchy and his eyes were bloodshot. 

Logan and Patton stared at the other two, waiting for something to drop.

_**"It's going to be Thomas' turn soon."** _

_Thomas._

Virgil opened his mouth and made to move forward, he was going to tell them everything...

Instead, he groaned, his vision spotting and eyes becoming bleary. Dizziness wrapped around him and he stumbled.

Virgil collapsed, and dimly registered a sharp pain in his side as he fell, before being caught in someones arms... 

There was...yelling...footsteps...a bright spotlight?

He blinked rapidly and the vision of a panel of judges leaked away...

Virgil's head lolled and lost consciousness.


	11. Nurse Patton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some TLC, and surprise developments.  
> TW: (Spoiler alert) Virgil's eating and vomiting is discussed, and Virgil starts having a Panic Attack at the very end.

Virgil hazily lifted his head, feeling weightless yet heavy. 

It was pitch black...but Virgil felt sure - for whatever reason - that he was not in the back of the mind.

"Tristan?" Virgil meant to sound confident, but the break in his voice said otherwise. 

Nothing happened...for a long time. Virgil just...floated...in complete...nothingness...

"I would like to leave." Virgil burst out, not able to take the deafening silence. He was so nervous he thought he might be sick...

He knew he was shaking.

The silence seemed to thicken into something impossibly tangible, and enveloped the squirming Virgil. It invaded his lungs, wrapped around him, choked him so he couldn't even cry out...

It was cold...

Virgil was so so cold...

So cold...

He was...

 _He was waking up_.

Virgil grunted and Patton heaved a huge sigh of relief, continuing his act of dabbing the youngers' forehead with a wet flannel. 

"He's waking up." Patton mumbled, presumably to Logan who was reading in Pattons' armchair. Logan nodded and swapped his book for the open journal on the coffee table. He checked his watch, then noted the time on the page.

The two of them had turned the living room into a makeshift sick bay - with Roman asleep on the couch and Virgil lying on top of two mattresses stacked on the floor. They had pushed all the furniture to the walls in order to make enough room, and had buried the two patients in blankets. The coffee table in between Virgil and Logan held towels, bottles of water, buckets, disinfectant, bandages, and just about anything else a temporary hospital wing for two sides could need.

Patton knelt in the space they had left between the couch and the mattresses, tending and fussing to Roman and Virgil for hours. Anything to ignore his own confusion and fatigue.

Virgil groaned, and sluggishly swiped Patton's helping hand away. Wincing, Virgil opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

"Woah there, easy there tiger." Patton signaled to Logan to get more pillows to prop Virgil up. Virgil tried to complain but felt suddenly dizzy again, and grudgingly accepted the help.

It was dark, the only light coming from a dim lamp in the corner beside Patton's armchair.

"How long - "

"Shhh, don't worry about that noe." Patton hesitated, but leant over and lightly stroked Virgil's arm. Virgil flinched away from the touch, but halted himself with a sigh.

 _ **"You okay buddy?"**_ Tristan was hesitant and sounded...scared. Virgil felt immense relief wash over him. For a moment there...not being able to talk to Tristan in his dream...he had begun to think the worst. 

"I'm okay buddy." Virgil muttered, closing his eyes again and relaxing into the new set of pillows. His head felt incredibly foggy and there was a distinct ringing in his ears. Even under the mountain of blankets on top of him, he felt shivery. 

Logan and Patton shared a look, but Patton held out his hand as Logan opened his mouth. 

"Virgil, it's Patton. You're safe." He spoke low, trying not to wake the slumbering Prince behind him. He felt Virgil stiffen under his hand.

"I need to know when was the last time you ate." 

"Lunch" came the muffled reply, Virgil keeping his eyes resolutely closed. 

Logan made another note in the journal. 

Patton frowned, thinking of how much Virgil's stomach had grumbled while he was unconscious. 

 _ **"Tell them Virgil."**_ Tristan sounded stressed out and Virgil cringed - Stan hadn't even formed yet and he was already having to babysit him.

" - as far as I can tell he's been eating far better and more regularly than he ever has these past few weeks." Virgil dimly registered Logan had started talking. "I don't think he's missed a single meal."

"Maybe my food was too rich?" Patton's guilty tone finally coaxed Virgils eyes open.

"No, I've been...I've been a little sick." His voice was barely more than a croak. 

"When was the last time you kept a meal down, kiddo?" Patton's voice was steady, but Logan stood up sharply, finding a sudden need to resume his pacing. 

Virgil closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the reaction,  _the_ _disappointment,_ that the truth would give Patton. He had been so proud of Virgil, so happy to see him at meals and spending a little more time out of his room...

"Ummm, I think...at least two or three weeks."

Logan abruptly left the room, hands clenched. Patton didn't react, except to reach over Virgil and grab Logan's abandoned journal on the coffee table, and jotted down Virgils' answer. 

"When did the vomiting start?" Patton tried his best to keep his tone even, even though his heart clenched as Virgil grimaced and visibly paled.

"At least...at least a couple of months ago." VIrgil's voice was now barely above a whisper, and dripped with palpable shame. Patton jotted this down too.

"Thanks kiddo. You've done nothing wrong and I promise we're not mad or annoyed." Patton internally cursed Logan for leaving the room, knowing that Virgil would have noticed despite his shut eyes. "I'll let you get back to sleep now, I'll be right next door, okay? If you need anything, just call out." 

Virgil gave a slight nod, and relaxed a little at the prospect of not being made to talk for a little while.

~

"What was  _that?_ " Patton barged into Logan's room, looking  _mad._ Logan was pacing, his hands gripping his head with force that made his knuckles pop.

"Logan." Patton closed the door and folded his arms. Logan didn't break his pace.

"You probably just made him feel like a burden." It was at least 2:30am, Patton had had a stressful day, he didn't know what was going on, and he needed just  _one_ ally, one person to be acting normal...to be acting...logical, right now.

Patton teared up finally, stepped forward, grabbed Logan roughly and pulled him into a hug. 

Logan started in surprise, having barely noticed Patton's presence in the first place. Although not reciprocating, he allowed himself to relax into the embrace and scrunched his eyes shut. 

"He - he didn't come to us." Logan felt confused, frustrated...and a little guilty. They call him the 'problem-solver', but how was he supposed to help if people didn't ask? Maybe they just assumed that he's always watching...judging...

... _Grading_?

"Do you think it was because of the graph?" Logan whispered. Patton broke the hug and pulled back to study Logan's face, his confused expression melting into one of understanding as he remembered. 

"No, _no_ of course not, Logan. You haven't done anything wrong." To his surprise, Logan sniffed as his words. Patton always seemed to forget that Logan did indeed feel complex emotions, like the rest of them - they were just tied to different things and manifested in different ways. They were usually in connection to his perceived purpose, and level of usefulness. Sometimes, Patton could grudgingly admit that they perhaps ignored Logan a little too much, in their pursuit of dreams and chance. 

"Look at me Logan." Patton said, a light bulb going off in his head. Logan obeyed, eyes looking a little frantic. "Something's not right, and we need Logic to be on point now more than ever. I can take care of them, but I need you to keep your head too. I think - I think this might be bigger than we're prepared to admit." 

Logan opened his mouth, face hardening in understanding and his eyes showing his gratitude...but both sides jumped as they heard a loud  _CRASH_ and a yell coming from the living room.

Without delay, Logan and Patton materialised in the living-room-turned-sick-bay to find...

Virgil, vomiting into a bucket and looking like he was on the verge of a major panic attack...

A very angry and startled Roman with bed-head in a battle stance on the couch, brandishing his sword towards...

In the corner of the living room, white with shock, and eyes wide, holding his hands out to caution the battle-ready Prince, stood someone who was undoubtedly,  _undeniably,_ unexpectedly...a newly formed side of Thomas Sanders.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi just wanted to say again a massive thanks for the interest and kind words, I had a really bad day at work today (I work at a bookstore, and a crazy lady literally tried to PULL MY HAIR OUT so she could SENT IT in a CHRISTMAS CARD that she was buying. Needless to say, I wrote this to escape thinking about that haha :') ).  
> So things are really picking up in the story, I love reading through your theories and musings! I hope you guys like what's coming!  
> Thanks again for reading, take care xx


	12. A Little Bit of Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan takes charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TW: Virgil is having a panic attack throughout this chapter, but other than dry-retching and sweating I don't go into much detail.

"Pump those breaks Roman!" Logan took charge, striding purposefully into the midst of the chaos, putting himself squarely between the new side and Virgil (and also between Roman and the new side). Patton just gaped, looking like the metaphorical rug had been ripped out from underneath him. 

Logan didn't take his eyes off the new figure, who was frozen in a mix of shock and fear in the corner of the room. Logan's confident expression only broke when he winced as he heard Virgil painfully dry-retching behind him. 

"Logan, what  - " Roman sounded beside himself and bewildered, but Logan cut him off.

"Patton, please tend to Virgil, he appears to be having a severe panic attack. Make sure he's okay." 

Patton swallowed and nodded, glad to be doing something he was familiar with. 

"Roman, you come with me. We will relocate to the kitchen with our guest - "

"No-NO" Virgil coughed and spluttered. Patton was now soothing him and rubbing his back. 

"Don't worry Verge, we're not going to hurt him." Logan's voice softened. "We just need to know what he represents - "

"Truth! He's truth, he's -" Virgil's voice disappeared behind another bout of dry-retching. 

Logan frowned and shared a look with Roman, before turning to the new side.

His hair was almost totally obscured under a light green beanie. He wore a simple outfit of blue jeans, a green t-shirt, and a large grey coat. The look was tied off with a dark blue scarf that was twisted into a simple knot on his front. 

Logan sighed, and frowned in contemplation. 

"Are you hungry, er, Truth?" 

Roman looked at Logan in surprise, as did Truth, who nodded meekly. 

"Roman, please grab some toast or something light from the kitchen..."

"But - "

"Now please." 

Roman looked to Patton, who only had eyes for the now shivering Virgil. Patton only slightly shrugged and shook his head in response to Roman's unasked question. The Prince got down from the couch, and reluctantly obeyed Logan's request, leaving the room without another word but with his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword.

"Take a seat." Logan gestured to Patton's vacant armchair. As Truth sat, Logan chanced a glance at the two figures huddled behind him on the floor. Virgil had finally stopped his awful retching, and Patton was quietly helping Virgil stabilize his breathing and calm down, rubbing circles on his back and talking softly to him. Virgil was crying - out of effort and exhaustion and panic and Logan felt his heart clench. He knew - from his research - that panic attacks took a lot of energy out of someone, but he'd never see Virgil cry before. 

"It's okay Virgil, they all just got a fright, that's all." 

Logan's head whipped around to Truth, who had finally spoken. He had sat down and clasped his hands together before him. Truth was looking with great concern, and a little guilt to Virgil. Patton subconsciously pulled Virgil a little closer. 

Virgil nodded slowly and sniffed. Realization dawned on Logan.

Since  _Patton_ had not heard the new side forming (judging how he seemed just as surprised, and he had told them every other time a side had formed),  _Virgil_ must have been the one Truth had been able to connect with. 

' _That's an interesting development...'_ Logan made a mental note to table pondering the implications of that for a later date.

Roman came back into the living room with a plate of toast, looking sheepish, his sword at home and secure in his scabbard. 

"Here," he said gently, handing Truth the food, who accepted it gratefully. "I must apologize for threatening you earlier. Patton had not mentioned another side was forming - "

"Virgil heard him, not Patton." Logan said quietly, giving Roman a look that plainly said  _we don't have time for that right now._  

"Right...nevermind. I see that a new door has appeared in the hallway, that's evidence enough for me." Roman swayed slightly, and Logan looked at him hard.

"That's quite enough excitement for one night, I think." Logan decided, after a moment. "I want everyone in bed in five minutes, okay?" To his surprise, no one argued. Roman collapsed down onto the couch. Patton, having finally stabilized Virgil, went to get both patients some more water. Patton looked a little shaken, and Logan made another note to check in with him in the morning. Truth hesitated, obviously unsure of what he was being asked to do. He took another bite of his toast to stall for clearer directions. 

Truth couldn't blame Virgil for not getting around to letting the others know about him, and it didn't exactly matter now anyway. Tristan tried not to feel too guilty for the stress he had inadvertently added on an already tenuous day, not to mention what his sudden appearance had done to Virgil. He looked almost green from exhaustion and he was still sweating profusely. 

"I can't imagine you're very tired, Truth." Logan said after a moment, a dim memory of his own formation glancing across his mind. 

"Please, call me Tristan." Tristan put his plate down on the coffee table, now holding only crumbs. "And no, to be frank. I would rather aid you in tending to Virgil and Roman - I assume that's the role you've assigned yourself since Patton looks ready to drop himself?" He had an odd way of speaking, almost as if he was stretching his mouth a little too much - getting used to a corporal form would be quite the ride. 

"I would appreciate your help." Logan admitted, impressed with the reasoning used in Tristan's statement and giving him a small smile. 

"Look at them." Patton whispered fondly. Logan jumped slightly, not having noticed he had re-entered the room. 

Both of the patients were sound asleep.

"We've got the next shift, okay?" Logan said firmly. Patton gave a grateful smile and nodded as he left, thankfully not having enough energy to put up a fuss.


	13. Roman's Folly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sides adventure into the dreamscape, and get more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning (But also a massive SPOILER:): There's blood at the end of this chapter, and a death.

Roman had called it a 'War Meeting', and Logan had called him dramatic.  Nevertheless, the five sides sat at the kitchen table the next morning, and held counsel. 

Virgil was still deathly pale, even without his signature makeup applied. He was slurping at the broth that Patton had concocted for him for brunch, and he was determined to keep it down.  Virgil  _hated_ being a problem the others had to solve, and today he was literally  _half_ the agenda. 

Logan and Roman were arguing passionately over how to tackle the two issues: the dead meadow and the sick Virgil. Roman was in favour of splitting up: having himself, Patton, and Logan go investigate the dreamscape, while Tristan took care of Virgil. 

Virgil hated this idea.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't like the idea of splitting up: either they all went to the dreamscape, or none of them did. 

Virgil hated both prospects of this idea too. 

"- would be simply cruel to drag Virgil around the dreamscape which is  _already_ being influenced negatively - no offence, Virgil - when he is ill and weak!"

"- we may need all of us around to take care of Virgil, and we have no idea what the others would be walking into - "

"We cannot delay any further, the situation is worsening as we speak and I don't even know where to start!"

"-but-"

"Please stop." Virgil put down his spoon in his bowl and a little bit of broth splashed onto the table. "We should all go."

Roman raised an eyebrow.

"Walk to the living room and back without keeling over or painting a bucket with broth." It wasn't an unkind tone, but Virgil still let out a moody sigh. "I will not put you in danger, Virgil! We don't know what could be lurking - "

"Let's vote on it." Tristan suggested. 

"We don't usually vote on stuff." Roman frowned.

"You had even numbers so it didn't always work." Tristan pointed out. "You now have a tie-breaker."

Roman squinted his eyes slightly in thought, but nodded.

"All in favour of splitting up..." Logan called authoritatively. Roman and Patton raised their hands. "All in favour of sticking together...that's three against two. We're sticking together."

"Fine." Roman pouted. "But in the dreamscape,  _I_ am in charge. You don't know it like I do."

To his surprise, no one argued.

"Be ready to go in five." Roman said, tone a little softer.

~

The five sides stumbled a little as they materialised in the dreamscape. They appeared on the top of a hill, from which they could see the dreamscape stretching away, far into every direction. Roman's castle could be seen in the distance to the north, the great lake to the west. They were surrounded by a sea of trees, but their eyes were invariably drawn southward...

"Merlins Beard..." Roman said, taking a step forward and gaping slightly.

The white dome of magic that he had created the day before looked completely different. Instead of a shiny, smooth outer shell, it looked like a glass bowl had been dropped.

"Are those...cracks?" Logan asked nervously. Large black cracks splintered the dome, making it look like it would cave at any second...

Roman grit his teeth and raised his arm, but Patton grabbed it. 

"No! The effort last time literally killed you."

Roman frustradedly ripped his arm from Patton's grip. Virgil quietly explained to Tristan the different physics of the realm around death and injury, in responce to his alarmed look.

"Fine." Roman said finally. "We'll go closer and see the damage on the ground." 

Virgil sucked in his breath as they teleported again, and sat down rather quickly when they appeared at the new location: right beside the dome. Tristan looked concerned, and sat down next to him in solidarity. 

Inside the dome, they could only see a massive swirling cloud of dust. 

"Fascinating..." Logan muttered, puling out a little pad and taking a note. 

Patton gripped Romans shoulder.

Virgil tensed from his spot on the ground. He had thought he had heard something...

Sensing Virgil's unease, Tristan looked around wearily. 

"ROMAN." He warned, clocking eyes on the source of the disturbance. 

Roman spun around and practically breathed fire. His temper, which had been bubbling close to bursting point for far too long, finally let loose. 

Roman bellowed and charged over to the spying troll, dragging him out of the nearby bushes and throwing him onto the ground in the middle of the group. It was the same beast who Roman had lost on the first day the meadow had died. 

The troll didn't even put up a fight, but allowed Roman to drag him over to the others. He grinned at the sword pointed squarely at his throat. 

"Why are you here?" Roman practically hissed.

"I - I have a message for you." The troll spluttered, but had an air of confidence that kept them all on edge.

"From who?" Roman said through gritted teeth. 

"He wants to thank you all for playing your parts so perfectly...and one for completely going above and beyond..."

"I WILL NOT PLAY THE PRONOUN GAME WITH YOU." The Prince seethed. Logan took a step back in surprise. The air was thick with tension.

The troll just smirked and looked Roman in the eye. He gently grabbed the Prince's sword and batted it away. 

"There's a big storm coming." He slowly rose to his feet. "I'm not afraid of you." He folded his arms. "He won't stop until you're all just  _shadows_ of the things you need to be." The troll turned and started walking away. Roman looked floored. No one ignored Prince Roman like that.

"YOU CAN'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" He roared, finding his voice. The troll spun back around to face them. 

"Yes, I can. Your power is already weak, you're all living on borrowed time. And Thomas? Poor sweet Thomas...I wonder how fast he'll fall when  _he_ moves into the next stage of his plans..." The troll didn't get to finish. Threatening Thomas was the last straw. 

With a mighty roar, Roman threw his sword at the foul being, where it lodged in his stomach. Roman closed his eyes, panting sharply. A horrirfied gasp from Patton made him reopen them.

The five sides gaped in shock. The troll hadn't dematerialised yet. He stood there, now starting to scream, and dropped to his knees. Where the sword had penetrated, was a growing patch of red.

"No..." Roman choked, running over and pulling the sword out of the troll, recoiling at the blood that started to flow freely from the wound. He tried to put pressure on it, but someone pulled him away. Logan and Patton set to work on the troll, trying to stem the bleeding. 

Tristan held Virgil's hand, the anxious side having put his headphones in and squeezed his eyes shut to try and avoid another panic attack. 

Roman just stood there, bloody sword hanging loosely from his hand at his side. He was pale, which made the horrifying blood stains on his usually impeccable white suit pop even more prominently. 

The troll managed one more laugh, coughed up some more blood, then shuddered and lay still.

His body didn't even dematarialise away.


	14. Fight and Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TW: Virgil vomits at the start real quick. Mentions of blood.

Thomas woke, bleary eyed and - if possible - more tired than when he had gone to sleep. He stretched out, then collapsed again into the warmth of his sheets. 

~

Virgil couldn't hold back anymore. He rocked forward onto his knees and vomited into the bush in front of him, Tristan shakily rubbing his back.

"Hey, hey it's okay...just let it out. You're fine, we're here, it's okay..." Tristan had a soft voice, if a little unsure in his tone. Having a form had made him lose the ability to connect with Virgil mentally and emotionally, and he was less confident in how to help Virgil best because of it.

"I'm-I'm sorry." Virgil coughed, his throat aching.

"It's no trouble, just let it out..."

"No, I'm sorry I didn't tell the others."

Tristan sighed. He hadn't really had a chance to talk with Virgil since he had formed. He looked over to the other three, who were apart from them, discussing what to do with the body.

"It's okay - "

"It's not okay! Roman nearly turned you into a shish-kebab, just like - " Virgil groaned, and the next dry-heave caused him to lose his balance. Tristan caught him before Virgil fell face-first into the now foul bush and hugged him tight. 

"I was right about you looking like a nerd though..." Virgil mumbled, as ever trying to deflect and underplay a stressful moment.

Roman glanced at them uneasily, having noticed the movement. They ceased their discussion and moved to join them. They all looked a right sight in their bloody clothing - Roman not daring to risk using his creative powers to clean them up.

Tristan made sure Virgil's eyes were shut and his hoodie pulled up - the last thing Virgil needed to see was an image of the other three covered in blood.

"We need to get Virgil home." Logan said carefully, trying not to let any hint of tension or unease slip into his tone. 

"But, the effort of teleportation - "

"We're not safe here." Roman looked grim, and more than a little scared. 

It clicked for the others - if Virgil...died...in the dreamscape...

Logan didn't want to think about it. 

"Do you know how to get to the back of the mind?" Tristan asked suddenly. Virgil had always felt pretty good there. 

Logan frowned, as he felt the pieces all click into place.

"I suppose that explains the last month or so." He said quietly. "Virgil has been hanging out at the back of the mind with you, and therefore his effect was muffled for Thomas."

"He was sick before that though." Tristan whispered, stroking Virgil's hair gently. 

They lapsed into silence for a few moments.

The hair on the back of Roman's neck started to stand up. 

The ground began to shake: great cracks were growing and spreading rapidly through the dome.

None of them had time to react. 

The dome exploded, and Roman, Patton, and Logan were all thrown back by the shock wave. Tristan and Virgil stayed put, slightly more sheltered huddled on the ground as they were. 

The dust began to settle. There was a ringing in Tristan's ears. 

Tristan groggily looked up. Where the dome once was, now held only a large circular patch of scorched earth...and in the middle, a solitary, dark figure stood.

Tristan checked on Virgil. He had obviously been knocked out by the blast, or had fainted just before it. That, or...

No. He couldn't think like that.

Tristan carefully laid back on the ground, Virgil still clutched close to him, and feigned unconsciousness. It was difficult, as he had to stop himself shaking with fear. 

He heard footsteps approaching, the dead earth crunching sickeningly underneath a strong stride. 

Tristan's heart was in his throat, as he heard the figure walk past him and Virgil without altering its pace.

"I know you're awake." 

Tristan barely breathed. The figure still had to be very close. Its tone was cold, with a touch of amusement to it. 

"You always were a terrible liar,  _Patton._ " 

There was a rustling sound and Tristan guessed that Patton had stood up.

If he could just get Virgil out of there...Tristan tried to subtlety check his pulse...if he was stable enough, he might be able to chance teleporting them both out of there...

"Well, g'day there, Pitch... How-how're you doing?" Patton sounded terrified.

Virgil's heartbeat was on the wrong side of 90, but not dangerously so...

He could teleport out, then come back for the others?

The figure tutted condescendingly. "You know you shouldn't hide your feelings like that Patton...though I must say your little _habit_ of that has benefited me hugely."

Would it be safe to teleport out? Or would this figure - Pitch, Patton had called him - would Pitch hurt the others before he got back?

There was more rustling and movement, and Tristan chanced opening his eyes slightly. Patton was out of his limited range of vision, but he could see the dark figure. Pitch was advancing slowly, with his back to Tristan, towards where he guessed Patton must be.

"I was doing what was best for _Thomas_." There was a real note of panic in Patton's voice now. Pitch was now nearly out of Tristan view completely. 

"Who do you think will be first?" Pitch speculated with gleeful malice.

That's when Tristan saw for the first time Roman's sword lodged in the ground...only a few feet away...he must have dropped it in the blast. If Tristan could just get to it, maybe he could help Patton...

"You leave them alone."

"Poor Virgil's _so_ infected already..."

"Take me!" Patton sobbed. "Leave them alone, _please_."

Tristan began slowly reaching out for the sword, and at the same time trying to gently roll Virgil off him, trusting that Pitch seemed wholly focused on Patton. 

"Oh, _no_ _Patton_..."

He was nearly there.

"...you'll be last..."

Another inch and he'd have the hilt.

"...because I want Thomas to _care_..."

Tristan's hand gripped the hilt.

"...right until there's nothing left to care about. And then some."

Tristan stood, and Patton finally noticed him. Pitch still had his back to Tristan.

"I don't know why you're so scared Patton!" Pitch laughed. Tristan began to charge. "This is going to be so much _fun_."

Pitch tensed, finally sensing the incoming charge. In the same moment, Roman stirred...

...Just in time to see Pitch begin to rise off the ground. A tornado of black substance gathered beneath him out of nowhere. With the storm clouds that had finally arrived above them, it was a terrifying sight.

Roman gave a yell that woke Logan. 

Tristan, seeing that Roman was awake, ground to a halt and threw the sword to him. Roman caught it and Tristan began to run back towards Virgil. Something grabbed his ankle and he fell, hard, onto his front. 

It was dragging him backwards. Tristan gave a strangled yell as he looked behind him. From the tornado that Pitch seemed to be controlling, had grown a tentacle that was dragging him into the storm. It was swallowing him, he could feel it spreading from the grip it had on his ankle - his whole leg had now disappeared. Tristan scrabbled desperately at the ground, digging his nails into the dirt so hard it hurt, but it was fruitless.

Hearing another yell, Tristan wriggled around again in time to see another tentacle extend and grab Patton around his waist, reeling him in too. Pitch was laughing above his seething mass of dark energy.

Roman took a run at the tentacle dragging Patton and swung his sword downwards.

There was a bright flash, and the sword shattered. Roman looked horrified as he tried to grab onto Patton instead as he was dragged past. 

Maniacal laughter filled the air as Roman lost his grip on Morality.

"ROMAN! GET OUT OF HERE!" screamed Patton as he disappeared with Tristan into the centre of Pitch's dark storm. 

Roman let out a yell. 

"Come on Roman, Come give me a shot! It'll be faster than what I have planned." Pitch's eyes glinted evilly from his perch above the chaos, goading Roman into attacking him. 

Roman gritted his teeth, and felt tears spring in his eyes. He looked past his foe -  to where Logan had managed to get to Virgil. 

Logan nodded at Roman. 

Roman nodded back. 

They teleported into the mindscape at the same time, Logan holding an unconscious Virgil, Roman still clutching the hilt of his broken sword.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and leaving nice comments. I appreciate them all so much! I never know what to reply though (I wish there was a like button or something). You guys give me so much joy <3 thanks so much!


	15. Grey Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan, Roman, and Virgil start to come to grips with what's happened.

Roman woke to the sound of a marker on a whiteboard, and someone muttering quietly to themselves. He winced as he opened his eyes just a smidge - the light from the lamp in the corner feeling like just too much. 

Roman's head was throbbing, and he felt as though he had been hit by a truck. The thick feeling of failure and dread weighed in on his stomach like cement, unforgivably reminding him of the ordeals of the previous day.

The three of them had rematerialised early afternoon in the mindscape living room, but Roman had been utterly shocked that it hadn't been much later. Surely their time in the dreamscape had lasted at least a week? Not, like, an hour. 

Roman's stomach growled, and he turned over in his spot on the couch so he could see the clock on the wall - it was just gone 6am. 

They hadn't had dinner the night before. After the initial chaos of their arrival, Roman and Logan had settled into a deadpanned routine. Roman took care of their bloody clothes, and Logan had cared for Virgil. Virgil had developed a concerning fever, and was incredibly weak. He hadn't spoken much after the initial chaos, he hadn't really had the energy to react at all. 

Virgil hadn't in fact, been completely unconscious throughout the...incident. He had been too weak to really respond or even open his eyes. Virgil had been able to recall parts of what had been said when the other two were unconscious, and that included the enemy's name.

When their usual dinner time ticked around, Roman had found himself sitting at the table, almost subconsciously. After spending five minutes or so lost in thought, Logan had come across him. 

"When we get him back, we should probably cook for him for a change." Logan hadn't sounded judgmental, but had correctly guessed that Roman was struggling to comprehend the loss of Patton to...to whatever the hell was going on. 

With these words, Roman registered finally that  _Patton was gone,_ losing his appetite and starting to cry instead. 

They all had gone to bed rather early after that, all in varying states of shock.

Now, as Roman found the strength to fully open his eyes, he was that Logan had been  _very_ busy.

He had wheeled in two massive whiteboards, and set them up side-by-side along the blank wall. He was scribbling fiercely, his back to Roman.

The Prince turned his head to check on Virgil. The boy had all but disappeared underneath a tonne of blankets, but Roman could see he was sound asleep on the mattresses next to him. There was a wet cloth carefully placed on his forehead. 

Roman turned back to the whiteboards, feeling his brain starting to kick in and shake off his sleepiness. The first one had been divided into six smaller squares, labelled each with a name of each of the sides and Thomas. Various things were scribbled into each square, things Roman judged to be dates, facts, and timelines. The second whiteboard was ruled into four separate columns, each headlined: Timeline; Plot; Short Term Ideas; Long Term Ideas.

Roman groaned as he got to his feet, shrugging his own blankets off him. Logan finally halted in his writing and spun to face him. 

Logan looked as if he'd not rested in a week. There were dark bags under his eyes, and stress lines on his face. He looked fairly manic. 

"Good Morning Roman, how are you feeling?" He whispered, speaking a little quicker than usual. 

Roman yawned and stretched his neck to try and subtly see what Logan had written under  _his_ name, but Logan was obstructing his view. 

"As good as I can be, I suppose." He replied, shrugging. "I think I got at least a few hours sleep. Are you working on a plan?" He tried to keep his tone light. 

Logan frowned and Roman instantly regretted his choice of words.

"Remember that you're more than that, and that you've got to give yourself time to process things too." He added quickly, trying to avoid the inference that Logan was indifferent or unaffected. 

Logan just sighed and ran his hand through his hair. 

"I think we need to check on Thomas, when he wakes up. We'll have to really closely monitor him today...this is rather unprecedented territory."

Roman nodded. They knew that the other two were more or less physically intact and functioning - not only were their doors still there, but it didn't 'feel' like they had clocked out all-together. 

Logan turned back to the whiteboard, and Roman squinted to read his small, neat writing. 

Tristan was the first square, in the top, left hand corner. Underneath his name was: the time and date he had formed; Logan's general guess as to when he had started to form; what he represented; and the date and time that he had been taken.

Roman swallowed. The word beneath that was ' _compromised'_ in red marker.

"I used ' _compromised'_ as a term to indicate whether the subject has been infected, influenced, or otherwise 'touched' by Pitch." 

Logan had correctly guessed and promptly answered Roman's query. 

Underneath Tristan's square was Patton's, with similar information. Underneath _'compromised_ ' was the phrase ' _patient zero?_ '.

Roman didn't even want to read Virgil's square, beneath Patton's. Unlike the others, it was completely crammed with information about Virgil's illness and concerning factors. The red word was crammed in right at the bottom. 

In the other column, Thomas and Logan's squares just said ' _to be assessed_ '. 

"What do you know about me?" Roman asked softly, now conscious that Logan was very deliberately blocking his line of sight.

Logan stiffened, but turned to face him again. He looked...nervous? Sad? Tired? 

"You...you might want to sit down." Logan shifted slightly and Roman saw a flash of red in his box.

He felt like throwing up, then panicked even more at what that might mean. 

Logan gently picked up a small hand mirror off the coffee table, and gave it to the Prince carefully.

"To be fair...I think it's a look you could pull off?" Logan was scared, and really trying to do his best. 

When Logan had finally given up any hope of getting sleep, he had almost absent-minded checked on his two counterparts. He had nearly lost it, finally, upon laying eyes on Roman's slumbering figure. He had felt more alone than ever, and incredibly on-guard - to think that he was the _only_ side clearly untouched by their enemy...it made him feel completely lost.

Roman didn't even react when he saw his reflection. Logan found this in itself incredibly troubling - where was the outrage? The passion?

Roman's complexion was ashen. His eyes had lost their almost cartoonish sparkle. But the biggest and most noticeable change, was to his pride and joy.

The Prince's hair was limp, dead-looking, and the colour of the dullest, most uninspiring shade of grey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh thanks again for all the kind comments and words of support <3 I can't promise an update in the next two days because I'm working late nights in retail, but I'll be writing on my breaks! (It really helps tbh). I thought I'd take it down a notch in this chapter, to try and really put across that these guys are kinda in shock and a little lost at the moment. Plenty of angst to come though hehehe >:)


	16. Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton gets a reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TW: (major spoilers): it's pretty heavy here, with sadness and not feeling too good about yourself. Start of a big panic attack at the end.

Patton couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he had met Pitch.

It had seemed so gradual: minuscule changes every now-and-then that when experienced felt nearly undetectable. It could only be properly measured and appreciated if one scrolled way out, and looked from a distance with hindsight. 

Patton had always had the tendency to cover up. He was there in Thomas, almost from the beginning: the first side to properly manifest and form in the mindscape. That, and his father-figure status had always made Patton strive to be a symbol of strength and consistency. It didn't matter how he was feeling, as long as Thomas was safe and happy.

In hindsight, Patton admitted to himself that this glaring character flaw had made him easy prey. 

Somehow, Pitch had woven his way into Patton's life. First it was just a feeling of not enjoying the things he loved as much as he used to. Next was just a general fatigue. Lastly came the sleepless nights, hours spent lying in bed, just feeling  _sad._

Patton was ashamed. He'd broken his number one rule: always be honest. 

He had lied so much, had hidden his feelings away in the name of strength to such an extent, that the part of him that represented 'truth' had literally split from him and manifested in its own right. 

Patton had suspected this from the moment Tristan had formed. It was clear then that Virgil was more in tune with Thomas' feelings than, well, Thomas' actual _feelings_. 

They were in a dark, dingy room. Apart from the wall Tristan and himself were secured against, Patton couldn't make out any other walls...or a door. Smoke and general darkness obscured them, but a distinct feeling of claustrophobia assured Patton that they were there. 

Patton's wrists and ankles were shackled, with thick chains rooting him to the ground.

Tristan however, seemed to be trapped inside a box - Patton couldn't actually see it, but he could feel the dark energy there. Tristan was on the ground, unconscious.

Pitch was there, watching him carefully. He wore long, black robes. He was slightly taller than Patton, and had dark, coal-like eyes. His hair was thin and short, sticking up on edge. His face was thin and pointed. Patton was relieved that he looked nothing like Thomas: this monster was _not_ a side.

"You've ignored the truth for too long Patton." Pitch said. There was a terrifying note of malice mixed with anticipation, and Patton recognised this as a very clear threat.

"How can I ignore him? He's right here!" Patton raised his arms to indicate to Tristan, the chains clinking and shackles digging into his wrists as he did so. He was aiming for 'cheery', trying to show his captor that he would not be intimidated so easily.

Pitch just laughed instead, and clapped his hands.

"Beautiful! Keep that up Patton, you're making this way too easy for me!" 

Patton's eyes widened and he finally allowed his shaky smile to slip away. He hung his head, the weight of his situation weighing him down.

Pitch approached him, and lifted Patton's chin with a finger. Patton shivered and closed his eyes - this man was _so_ cold. 

Pitch's black eyes searched Patton's face, looking earnest and, disconcertingly, hungry.  

"I'm not a bad guy, Patton. I am simply _Reality_ \- "

"No." Patton opened his eyes sharply and recoiled. " _No_. You're not Reality. I refuse to believe that."

Pitch walked away, now really laughing. Patton looked to Tristan, starting to panic and feeling very alone. The new side didn't stir, and a lump formed in Patton's throat. 

"You know, my first instinct was to go for Virgil." Pitch conjured a simple chair and sat down facing him, clasping his chin in reflection. His tone was almost conversational. Patton snapped his head around to look him in the eyes again, his heartbeat picking up.

"You - you made him sick! YOU - "

"No Patton." Pitch's smirk was positively evil. " _You_." He was calm, contemplative. Patton's breathing was becoming erratic with...rage? Shame?

"I did go for Virgil at first. But, he was always far to vocal to Thomas with his concerns. I wasn't really able to get through to him. _Then_ , I saw you guys perform the nostalgia videos!"

Patton gulped, and leaned back slightly so his back was against the wall.

"It clicked for me then! To get to Thomas, I would have to exhaust Virgil to the extent where I could have an effect on him. What better way to do that for him to be eternally on-guard for something that Thomas would refuse to recognise! Or at least, you would..."

Patton felt sick as he remembered the graph - the data. Logan had said that the decisions and concerns Virgil was raising were unreasonable...but Virgil had _known_ \- had _said_ \- that something was off with Thomas, he had _said_ it wasn't his fault...

Pitch smiled gleefully at Patton's growing expression of horror and guilt. 

"Got there, finally, did you?"

"I was just trying to protect him..." Patton managed, his voice sounding small. 

"Thing is, that's not you job."

Patton closed his mouth and blinked the tears from his eyes,

Thing was...Pitch was right. It was _Virgil's_ job to protect Thomas, to protect _all_ of them. Virgil could sense something was terribly wrong - fundamentally wrong - but in the absence of facts that proved there was a tangible threat - that he, Patton, had known about - Virgil had been forced to assume the danger was coming from everything.

"Poor Virgil." Pitch actually did sound a little sad. 

Patton got a dark feeling of foreboding and he lifted his head again. 

"Is he...is he going to...?" It was more of a sob than a question. 

Pitch rose from his chair and it dissipated into smoke. As he approached him, Patton slid down the wall til he was in a sitting position, face in his hands. 

"Shhhh..." Pitch soothed, stroking Patton's hair. To his glee, Patton didn't recoil, but seemed to lean into the touch. "No, of course not." 

Patton nodded slightly, not daring to let a sound escape.

"He's still far too strong."

Patton froze, breath caught in his throat. He could feel himself shaking.

"I think it's about time that he finally gets to do his actual job, yes?"

Patton finally pulled his face out of his hands and looked up cautiously, eyes watery. 

Pitch held his gaze, looking impossibly sincere. He snapped his fingers, and the darkness behind him shifted slightly: revealing a transparent Virgil.

Patton locked eyes with the terrified side and let out a strangled yell.

"It's okay Virgil! Everything's going to be fine - "

Pitch growled and slapped that Father figure, hard, across his face. His glasses flew off his face at the impact and Patton heard them smash on the ground nearby, though at this point he didn't care too much.

"STOP LYING TO HIM." 

Virgil sucked in his breath, frozen to his spot, obviously not able to move. His eyes were frantic. Pure panic and dread and rage and sadness and and and....and anxiety, took over Virgil.

Virgil woke up, in his little makeshift bed in the living room, and began to have by far the biggest panic attack in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I woke up super early and couldn't get back to sleep so I wrote this instead. Remember to acknowledge that all your feelings are valid, and to be honest with yourself xx   
> Til next time!


	17. Reeling and Dealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in on Thomas, and on the captured sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of a panic attack at the start. Mentions of vomiting and blood.

Thomas woke up, feeling as if he was falling off a skyscraper. He gasped, trying in vain to draw breath.

"He-Help" he managed to cough out, before bursting into tears and violently starting to shake. 

Logan popped up almost immediately, with a wet flannel and a bucket at the ready.

~

It took hours to completely calm both Thomas and Virgil down. They were both exhausted from the ordeal of the attack.

Logan eventually coaxed Thomas into some day clothes, and sat him on the couch. He even got him halfheartedly watching Steven Universe. Logan sat on the couch with him, and didn't like how pale Thomas looked. 

"I think you might need to get some help, Thomas." Logan broached cautiously, not wanting to set the poor boy off again.

"I don't really want to bother Joan or Talyn..." Thomas avoided Logan's eye and shifted uncomfortably. 

"They are not who I was referring too, though I am positive that both of them would be more than happy to aid you." Logan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He was  _so tired._ And if there was one thing he knew for sure: he needed reinforcements. 

~

Tristan felt like he did when he had first splintered off from Patton: lifeless, baseless, lost in a sleepy haze.

He was lying on...it felt so soft, and he frowned, knowing that it didn't feel like there was anything solid beneath him. He opened his eyes to squint, and saw that he was lying on a literal cushion of darkness. That probably should have concerned him, but he had to admit he was very comfortable. He stretched out a little and looked around: there was only darkness.

Patton noticed this movement and looked over, relieved that his counterpart was finally awake. 

"What are you doing to him?" He whispered, his voice hoarse. He had long since concluded that Tristan couldn't hear him, and he suspected he wouldn't be able to see him either. He had tried for a long time to attempt to wake him: yelling, screaming, and even singing, until his throat at ached too much for him to go on. Patton was forced instead to lapse into silence, and finally pay attention to the livestream that Pitch had oh-so-kindly set up for him.

Pitch had conjured a mirror, and Patton had made a half-hearted joke about him being the evil queen and carving out Thomas' heart. Pitch had instead conjured the image of the mindscape living room. 

"Just so you can keep an eye on your boy." Pitch had winked. 

Patton forgot about his raw throat and nearly dead voice: he had yelled and screamed and pulled on his chains, and had even tried to simply annoy Pitch into defeat with puns and dad-jokes. Anything to cover up the noise of Virgil crying and vomiting. 

Patton had only really fallen silent again the awful moment he saw Virgil starting to cough up blood.

"Nothing." Pitch now spoke. "He's in an insulation cube of energy - what the subject generates simple manifests a little more."

Patton wasn't sure if he completely understood, but seemed to get the basics. He frowned. Patton hadn't really had the chance to get to know Tristan, but he had seemed like a positive guy, so maybe if he wasn't feeling too negative, the atmosphere in his cube wouldn't be so bad?

Patton shuddered and blinked away the sudden image of Virgil being trapped in one of those things.

Pitch's smile grew wider.

"How about, I make you a deal?" Pitch conjured a chair behind Patton and used the darkness around his captive to push him down into it. Pitch drew up his own chair and sat, barely two feet away.

"I can't see me being able to deal with the outcome." Patton danced around the word 'no' - his face still stung from the power slap he'd received earlier. 

There was a flicker of annoyance in his captor's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with an unreadable expression.

"I'll let both of you go, if you take Virgil to the back of the mind." 

Patton shifted uncomfortably. Pitch didn't drop his gaze or blink once.

"I don't think that's in his best interests..."

"If I'm being honest with you," Pitch interrupted, tone sincere. "Poor Virgil can't have much time left.  And there's some pretty big things to come for Thomas, videos, auditions and the like...you wouldn't want him to _fade_ would you?"

Patton closed his eyes. Right and Wrong. It was supposed to be his signature: his forte. 

Thomas needed to be on guard...

But, if Virgil _died_...he'd never be on guard again...

Patton let out a noise of frustration. This was his job - literally - he was actually doing _his_ job and not trying to do Virgil's job for once and he still couldn't get it right.

But...he had definitely got some form of a warning out to Virgil...

 _Stall_.

"Can I please have time to think about it?" It couldn't be a worse call than either of his given options.

Pitch narrowed his eyes. "You have twelve hours to decide Patton." He clicked his fingers, then disappeared with his chair. Patton gaped in shock: both the chair he was sitting on, and his chains and shackles, dissipated into the larger darkness, his seat lowering him carefully onto the ground. Patton rubbed his aching wrists, and stretched out...

Only for his hand to hit an invisible barrier. 

Huh. Looks like he was getting what Tristan had been served. 

"Okay Patton." The Father figure whispered, curling into himself and laying down. "Think happy thoughts."

~

Tristan looked up, feeling light headed and blissful. Pitch sat in front of him, barely a foot away, cross-legged and casual, looking intensely bored.

Tristan stretched out, almost cat-like, and sat up. He felt quite calm, and secure. They were the only discernible figures in a room of thick shadows.

"Thomas needs you." Pitch spoke, cocking his head and talking seriously. "He's ignoring you already. He already ignored the truth enough for it to literally split off - "

"Why do you care?" Tristan was more curious than confrontational, but folded his arms. 

"I'm Reality - "

Tristan scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're not a side - "

"But I should be." Pitch's tone was suddenly dangerously low. "I want to help you, Tristan. It's unhealthy to be so resolutely in _denial_ all the time." 

Tristan frowned, looking a little dreamy. 

Pitch clapped his hands and straightened up a little, now giving a smirk. 

"How about, I make you a deal?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for the love! I adore reading the comments and thinking about your theories, I never know what to reply though because I don't want to give anything away!   
> Happy Holidays Lovelies :) <3


	18. The Ol' Switch-a-roo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan cares for Virgil, and a plan is set in motion.

"Sorry you're having to deal with all this 'feelings' shit, I know it's not your jam." Virgil said gruffly, trying not to stretch his chapped lips too much. 

Logan frowned, but continued in his act of dabbing Virgil's forehead with a wet cloth. 

"Your apology is unnecessary, Virgil. Please, let me assure you. Anyway, this goes beyond mere 'irrational' feelings if I'm being honest, there is something more logical - that is to say, more concrete, if you will - at the bottom of this." Logan removed the cloth to dip it back into the bucket of water beside him.

Virgil had been moved to the couch for the time being, Logan sitting on the edge of the mattresses on the ground next to him. Roman had just started his shift hanging out with Thomas, and would be there for several more hours. 

Logan paused, his hand hovering over the bucket, until he sighed and dropped it in. He turned to Virgil, looking somber. 

Virgil felt the familiar kick of panic in his guts.

"What? What did I do?" His eyes were wild, and he tensed up as though someone had shot him with a taser. 

Logan internally cursed himself so his callousness, and put his hand on Virgil's shoulder, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

"Everything is fine. Well, its not, but it's not your fault." Logan stared intently at him and Virgil relaxed a little. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I - I didn't listen to you. Despite my best efforts to do otherwise, my research wasn't thorough enough and I - unforgivably - jumped to conclusions. Then I went to Patton and Roman before asking you if you were okay, or your opinion."

Virgil blushed a little - though it could have been his fever - and avoided Logan's gaze. 

"Don't - please don't worry about it. If I were you, I would have done exactly the same - "

" _No_." Logan stood, his fists balling in frustration. He was no longer looking at Virgil, instead looked away, face full of shame. He had lost so many battles lately...he would be damned if he lost this one. "Listen to me. I trust your reasoning, and your motives. This isn't your fault and I need - I really need you to understand this. I - I -" Logan floundered, face growing ever redder as he struggled to find the words to express what he wanted to say.

Virgil's hand reached out and grabbed Logan's arm, halting him in his search for words.

Logan looked down, and tried not to cringe or wince at how weak Virgil's grip was. Virgil's hair was practically plastered to his head from sweat and lying down. His complexion was an unhealthy hue of yellow, but his lips were blue.

There was an understanding in his eyes though, a spark of life. Virgil gave him a tight smile, which Logan returned gratefully. Logan wasn't sure how long they stayed like that for, but eventually, Virgil let his grip fail and his hand drop. He closed his eyes and drew his blankets closer.

"Whatever." He grumbled. "Don't got time for saps, it's time for naps." 

Logan tried not to let the sudden stab of sadness ruin the moment - Patton would have been so proud of Virgil for that line. Logan eased his way out of the living room quietly, and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

He made his way quickly to his room.

He smiled grimly. 

Roman was babysitting Thomas.

Virgil would be falling asleep any second. 

Both would be occupied for at least two or three hours.

Logan began to change.

All was going according to plan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter one today, but I'm hoping to update again quickly! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!


	19. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

Patton tensed, suddenly realising that Pitch had returned from...where ever he had gone. He panicked for a second, but managed to control himself.

"It's not been twelve hours yet." He focused on completely deadpanning his tone. 

Every flair of emotion or expression from Patton was reflected back on him with such a force that it hurt. Patton had learned very quickly into his his prison time that even the force of positivity could pack a mean punch.

Pitch looked a little thrown off, but there was a mischievous grin on his face.

"Someone's managed to find us."

The rush of hope and terror left Patton winded and gasping for breath. Pitch approached him, almost skipping. Patton recoiled and closed his eyes. 

"This wasn't apart of my plan, but a lil improv never hurt anyone, eh, Patton?" 

Patton looked up and met Pitch's eyes, as he waved his hand dramatically...a side appeared and fell into the gestured area. 

" _NO_." Patton yelled, upon seeing a flash of purple clothing. He started to panic - of all the sides, Virgil was the sickest, and the least in control of his emotions. If Pitch had him in one of these prisons...

Virgil had to run. _Now_. 

The intensity of all these feelings caused a wave of pain that drew fresh tears out of the tired Father Figure, as he curled into a ball. His knuckles were white, he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. 

Calm down...show no feeling...

Dimly, he could hear talking...

Patton thought he could hear Virgil pleading...

Pitch explaining...

The pain grew in a crushing crescendo and his ears started ringing. If Virgil thought his prescene was causing Patton's pain...the kid would blame himself...

Patton fainted, the pain finally becoming too much for him to bear.

"Aaaaaand he's gone." Pitch gloated gleefully, looking like Christmas had come early, as he watched Patton slump ungracefully into unconsciousness. 

Virgil balled his fists and started to shake with anger. 

"What do you want?" 

Tristan watched carefully, unseen in his corner, shrouded in Pitch's darkness. 

"I want Thomas to _finally_ listen to Reality." Pitch started slowly walking around Virgil, and Virgil moved to make sure that his enemy was always directly in his line of sight. They were locked in an intense predator/prey dance, and Virgil was sure that Pitch could hear his erratic heartbeat. 

"Skip the dramatics, Princy ain't here." Virgil scoffed, mentally checking Patton out from the corner of his eye. He had the vague shape of a plan, even though it was a desperate one. He only had one goal today, and that was to set Patton and Tristan free. 

"How _is_ Romano doing?" Pitch mocked. "Feeling a bit stressed, I see? He's got to stop working so hard, he'll be _grey_ by thirty...oh wait..."

"Enough chit-chat. Give me Patton and Tristan, and leave Thomas be." Virgil tried to sound more confident than he felt. 

"Thomas _needs_ me. You've all failed for far too long - poor Tristan had to split and form on his own for any of you to even _start_ paying attention to Thomas." Pitch's voice was low and light, his eyes glinting malevolently. 

"Where is Tristan?"

"You don't _want_ to see him, therefore you _don't._ "

"That is illogical reasoning." Virgil rolled his eyes. 

In his corner, Tristan cocked his head and frowned thoughtfully.

The two opponents came to a halt, almost simultaneously. Virgil was positioned so he had his back to Patton, blocking him from Pitch's view somewhat. 

"You said this thing reflects feelings as a force?" Virgil gestured behind him to where Patton lay. Pitch nodded, and Virgil had to work hard not to let the swoop of concern his stomach experienced leak onto his face: Patton was literally the one out of all of them that felt the most...no wonder he had fainted, the pain must have been awful.

"I want to make a deal."

Pitch looked as if he was about to start skipping.

"Go on."

"Me for him."

Pitch didn't even hesitate. He appeared barely an inch from Virgil's nose and the pair shook hands. 

Virgil blinked, and was suddenly on the ground where Patton had, just a second ago, been. Patton lay before him, waking up. He groggily lifted his head and looked from Virgil's somber expression to Pitch's sadistically happy one, and his eyes widened in horror. 

He got to his knees, still feeling too shaky to stand. 

"No... _no_! Pitch switch us back!" He begged. 

"I don't think so. You're done for now, Daddy-o, Pitch's got himself a new toy! And it's all because _you_ couldn't make a tough decision fast enough...will you admit Thomas needs Reality now?" Pitch waved his hand, cackling, and a devastated Patton disappeared. 

He then turned, still laughing, to where Virgil crouched on the ground and looked at him with a hungry expression.

In his corner, Tristan looked incredibly conflicted. 

~

Patton gasped as he appeared...in another dark room. The darkness didn't feel so empty here: just pleasantly warm. 

There was a blue door in front of him and he all but ran towards it, craving any kind of light. 

He stumbled into Logan's room and looked behind him as the door slammed shut, glowed, and reverted back to it's usual brown hue. 

"That's where he had us." Patton mumbled. 

There were large spaces in between the defined areas of the mindscape...it was where the highways of thoughts, chemicals, and information ran through. In short, it's where the nerdy stuff lived. It was a place that was easy to manipulate, but you could just as easily get lost, so Patton had never really explored it. 

Remembering himself, he ran into the living room in search of Roman or Logan. He was in tears, craving a hug, and gave in to a sob. Patton suddenly felt very overcome with everything...and it didn't help that no one seemed to be around.

Something moved on the couch, and Patton clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from making noise: obviously Roman was asleep, and he didn't want to disturb him. 

He heard footsteps behind him and Patton couldn't help but gasp as he swung around...half expecting Pitch to be there.

Instead, he saw a completely grey-scale Roman in the doorway, holding two glasses of water. He looked as though his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

"Patton?" He managed dumbly in a whisper. Patton could only manage a sniffle and a small nod. He turned back around with fresh concern - Logan hated the idea of sleeping on a couch if there was a bed (something about not using something for its original purpose), which could only mean that Logan had finally fallen victim too...

He gazed at the sleeping side and felt a nauseating swoop of relief and confusion, which he immediately pushed down. 

There, snoozing soundly, though still deathly pale, was Virgil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't say this is my best, but my computer crashed when I had nearly finished earlier and I had to rewrite it >:(   
> Merry Christmas!!


	20. Win the Battle . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan probes for information.

Logan couldn't help but smile to himself as Pitch got ever more frustrated as his taunts and jibes didn't get the reaction he desired. 

Logan was honestly surprised his half-baked plan had worked well enough to get Patton free, but it couldn't be long before Pitch pieced it together - even if Logan had done his make-up pretty well. 

He had an escape plan, based on an untested theory with unknown consequences. Logan tried not to focus on that - every scientist had to start somewhere, he just needed his first attempt to be a breakthrough. He couldn't leave yet anyway, there was one more issue to attend to. 

"You still haven't told me where Tristan is."

Pitch snarled and spat at the ground. Logan raised his eyebrow.

"Want to see how Patton's doing?" Pitch growled, conjuring a mirror beside him. 

Logan's heart skipped a beat as Patton flickered onto the screen, looking a little bruised, more than a little reserved and way too quiet. He was sipping tea in the kitchen, thankfully alone. 

If Pitch had the ability to spy on the others, then Logan had a lot less time than he had dared hope for. 

"Look a bit shaken, doesn't he? Don't worry. You're going to  _help_ Thomas by being here, I'm guessing  _it's_ going to happen soon...I wanted to save Thomas the pain by having both you and that sap tucked neatly away, but alas! At least now you'll finally see that I am needed, and you will let me in." 

Pitch knelt down in front of Logan, who shrunk into the surprising comfort of the stolen hoodie. Logan suddenly felt very conscious of his breathing. 

"Or, save him the pain. You have the power to save Thomas, Virgil. Bond with me now." Pitch extended his hand and passed through the transparent walls with ease, touching Logan's chin lightly. The picture feed behind Pitch flickered away from the kitchen scene and landed on Thomas instead: the boy was on the couch, reading. 

Logan narrowed his eyes. Everything was a little foggier to him without his glasses (but he didn't think he was missing out on much as most of his surroundings was hazy darkness anyway), but he saw the mad glint of ambition in Pitch's eyes with such clarity that he blinked away. 

"I've read about that...I mean...I know that Logic looked into that at one point - " He huffed, stalling for time and hoping for a classic, straight-forward, villain monologue. 

"You don't have to hide from me, Virgil. I know you read all of that nerds' notes to make sure he wasn't going to break you down and make you bond with someone." Pitch looked truly sympathetic.

Logan's stomach flipped and he cried out - the pain from the reflection of his burst of emotion having really hurt, for the first time. It must have been _hell_ for Patton. 

Pitch broke out into a massive grin, ecstatic to have finally managed to locate a chip in his prisoners armor. 

"I promise I won't throw your consciousness away. We'll be partners, a fusion if you will. I'll even wear one of your grungy hoodies and listen to that emo trash you call music. You won't be gone, but you'll be cured of all the things that hurt Thomas. Together we can help Thomas...and keep you in check. That's all you ever wanted, wasn't it?"

Logan gulped, and decided he'd finally had enough. He'd gathered enough information, and he doubted he was going to learn anything about where Tristan was being kept. 

He just needed one second...one moment. Logan craned his neck to watch the mirror, hoping that Thomas would presently provide a distraction, and hoping against hope that his untested theory would be correct - 

Another wave of pain hit Logan as he started to despair about how his plan was almost wholly reliant on  _hope_. 

"That's all anybody's ever wanted, right  _Verge?_ "

Logan shoved his hands in the hoodie's pockets, which Pitch grinned even more maniacally at: misinterpreting the move as Virgil starting to crack. He pressed on with more malice and vigor. 

"Think about how much happier you were when you spent most of your time in the back of the mind."

Logan gripped the object with his left hand, and stared past Pitch to focus on the mirror.

" - how much happier _everyone_ was, really."

The phone rang and Thomas jumped up to get it.

"Come on buddy, this is your chance to be a _hero_."

Thomas answered and listened, his smile becoming rather fixed. 

After a few moments, Pitch whipped around finally to see what Logan was so fixated on. The darkness in the room, which had until then been settled, started churning and swirling around Pitch euphorically. 

Logan took the opened. 

He yanked his pen from his pocket and stabbed down with all his might at the wall of his prison. It shattered, but Logan's arm jerked back from the force awkwardly. He dimly noticed pain, but put it on his mental list for later. 

Logan stood, the wind in the room (which now looked more like a literal storm than a room) whipped his hair about. 

Pitch was in the middle of the maelstrom, still watching Thomas, and starting to cackle.

Logan didn't stick around to see it unfold any further. 

With his knowledge of the infospace, he closed his eyes and guided his consciousness to land heavily on his bed. 

Logan didn't hesitate, but grabbed his glasses and shed the hoodie as he ran from his room and into the hallway - his head too busy with information to slow down enough to register that something felt very, very wrong in the mindscape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Christmas Sanders Sides' video made me smile SO MUCH that I felt really bad about this haha (not really tho).   
> Yeah, something BIG has gone down.


	21. . . . Lose the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan learns what happens when someone is not honest with themselves and healthily processes their feelings for too long, and is forced to make a choice.

When someone finally caves in, when they finally give in to sadness or despair, it's often a culmination of many things rather than a reaction from a sole event. It's a line of dominoes. 

It may be a big event that is the final straw, or something as little as spilling your drink on the carpet accidentally. The weight or size of that last domino doesn't really matter: if the set up is right any size or weight could knock them all down. 

Thomas received a phone call with unfavourable news after a long time of little dominoes failing to fall. 

He had never been a sore loser.

Thanks to Patton, he usually focused on being genuinely happy for the person who beat him.

Thanks to Roman, he was able to creatively look at what he had done and dream up ways to improve for the next time. 

Thanks to Logan, Thomas could see that it wasn't the end of the world and that more opportunities would come up. 

Even Virgil would contribute a small sense of relief: that feeling of respite you get out of cancelling plans if you're really tired.

None of this happened when Thomas learned he had not got the part. 

The chaos of the mindscape flashed across the mirror and the noise of sobbing, muttering, and general panic echoed around the dark room, getting caught and thrown around and amplified by Pitch's tornado.

Tristan watched Virgil, who was quite possibly nearly dead at this point, as Logan pinned him to the couch to keep him from hurting himself as he thrashed around, completely lost in the throes of panic. 

Logan had a bloody nose, where Virgil had accidentally caught him with one of his flailing arms, and still wore Virgil's spare T-Shirt. He looked terrified. He was doing his best to reassure Virgil, but his rationality was being drowned out. 

Virgil couldn't be swayed as every possible scenario played out for him: _decline of career, starvation, people not liking them anymore, not being able to pay rent, being homeless, being unloved..._

In the kitchen, Roman was just sitting there on the floor. He nearly completely blended into the grey lino. His arms were wrapped around his knees and he looked dazed, just staring at the wall. 

Only Patton seemed happy. 

He had locked himself in his room and was laughing absent-mindedly, bathing in the nostalgia and surrounding himself with the relative safety of the past. 

 _"We've peaked..."_ Tristan could here Virgil sob - obviously Patton was inadvertently making things _worse_ for Virgil...

And now Patton was in his room, lying again just to try and skate over what was happening. Ignoring the sadness and cheaply striving for happiness.

Tristan realised he was crying. 

His beanie had long since been whisked away by the dark gusts of wind. His fringe whipped around and some stray strands of hair stuck to his wet face. 

There was so much pain.

And it could have all been avoided by the Truth...but it was obviously way too late to lament that. He was now the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff.

Thomas sobbed for hours into his pillow, looking up only to howl like a wounded puppy.

He threw some things. 

An empty bowl from the night before...a few books...even his phone. They had all hit the wall. His floor was now strewn with pages and broken glass. His phone was in several pieces among the mess. 

Thomas didn't eat.

Thomas didn't sleep.

Thomas just existed in an endless cycle of panic and sadness.

Of Virgil and Patton.

Tristan stood and watched it all. 

He didn't know if Pitch stayed there too the whole time, but eventually Tristan felt a soft hand on his shoulder. 

"Well?" Pitch looked sadly smug - an unspoken  _told you so_ apparent on his face. 

Tristan squeezed his eyes shut and a sob escaped his lips. 

He had to be strong. 

There was no right decision here...but he wasn't a factor in Morality anymore.

He was Truth, and he had been sorely needed and he had been neglected and now...

Pain.

The others were causing Thomas pain. 

He had to do it. 

Fixing the others would fix Thomas, but to do that he would need to...

Tristan sighed.

"Okay."

The darkness thickened around the pair, as Pitch grabbed Tristan's hands and pulled him in tight.

Tristan blinked and suddenly they were in the back of the mind. 

The difference was stark - everything was calm and still. No storm of darkness. The darkness here felt warmer, more comforting, and less solid. 

Tristan didn't get time to muse any more about his old home - Pitch grabbed his scarf and pulled him forward. 

"This may hurt a bit." Pitch didn't hesitate, but plunged his hands into Tristan's chest. 

Tristan gasped, suddenly feeling as though he had been doused in icy cold water. Pitch's grip tightened inside of him.

Where Pitch's wrists disappeared into Tristan's torso started to glow a bright silver, and Tristan closed his eyes as his form dissolved, leaving only an orb of silver essence.

Pitch started kneading it, breaking off bits of light and crushing it in his hand. He carved out what he wanted, and cast the rest aside. 

He then drew the remaining light towards him, hugging it as he too dissolved into the light...

But then Pitch's darkness manifested - pouring up from the ground and swallowing the orbs of essence. 

It bubbled and morphed and stretched and finally extended to look humanoid...

Then, the darkness melted off to reveal...

He cleared his throat, and conjured a small hand-held mirror. 

His black coat was the same.

His eyes remained the colour of coal. 

His hair was still black.

But the face that stared back at Pitch, was the face of Thomas Sanders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys! I hope everyone had a great holiday. I've loved reading your comments and your theories!!!


	22. Pitch Slapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is the only side left to fight for Thomas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of depression.

Thomas woke up, having finally ebbed into sleep at some point in the night. As he sat up, he was frankly surprised he hadn't drowned: his pillow was sodden with tears. 

He rolled over, feeling like he had been run over by a convoy of trucks.

_What the hell had happened?_

Thomas found he didn't really care.

Thomas sighed and called for his sides to appear.

Logan calmly adjusted his tie as he materialised, appearing to be in deep thought.

"Thomas, kindly telephone Joan or Talyn and ask them to come over right now." It was all he could think of saying.

"Na." Two voices spoke at once, and Logan jumped slightly - Pitch having appeared right behind where Thomas was sitting, on his unmade bed. Thomas, concerningly, did not seem to notice. 

Logan gulped as Pitch smiled, his eyes dancing with the light of triumph. 

"You're sick Thomas. You need help." Logan balled his fists. He would  _not_ give up this easily. "The others are hurt and I can't help them alone - "

Thomas just sighed and lay on his back. Pitch looked down at him lovingly.

Logan took a deep breath.

This was just any other day: Logic against a whole lot of dramatic emotions. He could do this. 

"Thomas, you obviously have Depres-" Logan choked and gasped, hand flying to his throat. Pitch's arm was outstretched towards him, and was the obvious cause of his irritation. 

Logan tried to speak, but could only mouth wordlessly. 

Pitch started to laugh. 

Thomas was still oblivious. 

Logan blinked tears of frustration out of his eyes and finally lost his temper. He launched himself over Thomas at Pitch with a silent war-cry.

Without blinking, Pitch simply moved his arm and back-handed Logan out of the air. 

How was he already this strong?

Logan hit the ground hard and sank down into the mindspace, defeated, bruised, silent...but very, very angry.

He was sure his conclusion had been correct. What else could clip them all so badly and thoroughly?

Logan rolled onto his feet and ran to his room, locking his door behind him. 

The second conclusion he had reached, due to the fact he was still there, was that despite his time in Pitch's cage, he was still uninfected. He wasn't going to take any chances, however. He had to test this hypothesis. 

Just before Thomas had called, darkness had leaked into the mindspace and swallowed Roman, Patton, and Virgil. It had then sunk into the ground and disappeared, leaving Logan very much alone. 

Logan sat down at his desk and opened one of his drawers. He pulled a book of Sodoku puzzles out and flicked it open. He set his watch to time, then proceeded. 

Pitch had been able to physically effect the side's abilities for themselves and their roles for Thomas.  

So: was he infected? 

Not being able to directly comunicate through speech with Thomas was an unfortunate development, but it didn't mean he couldn't be heard. 

" _Time."_ Logan thought, jotting down his score. Though on the higher side of one minute, it still fit within his range of averages. Logan sighed and leaned back a bit, allowing himself one brief moment of relief. 

Every half hour he vowed to do that test. 

He grabbed a fresh writing pad and a pen, but found his pen frozen above the page. His stomach was churning, and he frowned, knowing that sensation too well. 

Feelings.

He was feeling sad. 

Logan sighed and tried to talk again, but only succeeded in stretching his mouth a lot. 

" _Do not feel. The others need Logic, they are counting on you. Thomas needs you."_ He thought. 

Logan's eyes' widened. He let his pen fall. He drew in a sharp breath.

NO.

He stood and started to pace, an idea starting to bloom in his mind. 

_Why are you feeling sad?_

'Because I'm alone and scared and out of my depth.'

_Why do you not want to feel?_

'Because it's not my role and I have to be strong for the others.'

_You sound like Patton._

'I'm not Patton. That attitude was folly then and it is folly now.'

_Well done Logan._

Logan smiled, feeling proud that he felt like he was learning something - the spark of discovery flickering in his eye. And he had a general idea that the voice in his head guiding him did not belong to him either...

_I can take you where you need to go._

Logan nodded, gritting his teeth. 

He blinked, and was in the back of the mind.

"Howdy there Logan!"

_Pitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! I was out of cell-phone reception. Back to posting regularly now! Happy New Year everyone!


	23. Strong Reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan goes up against Pitch again, and attempts to do what the others could not: resist.

Logan lifted his chin defiantly. 

"I can tell you've done some thinking." Pitch said playfully. "I bet you think you've got some answers. It's on the wrong  _side_ of it however I'm afraid." 

Logan's expression only grew darker with the lame pun. He raised his pen in what he judged to be a threatening manner his eyes narrowed. 

" _I'm angry and that's okay. Feel it. Acknowledge it."_

Pitch seemed to read this thought process, starting to laugh and advancing towards the silent side. 

Logan stood his ground, but Pitch came so close that they were practically nose-to-nose.

"We could do this together you know." Pitch cocked his head slightly, studying Logan's face. Logan just theatrically rolled his eyes.

"Suit yourself." Pitch narrowed his eyes and flicked his wrist. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait."

Logan blinked, then realised as he raised his arm that Pitch had conjured another energy cage around him. Logan smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

He'd done this. He could do it again. He had his pen. 

Pitch didn't seemed phased by his captive's confidence. Instead, he just waved his arm and directed his darkness to dissipate behind him - parting enough to reveal two bodies on the ground. 

Virgil was just lying on his back, vapidly gazing upwards. Logan didn't think he had ever seen him so calm or still. 

Patton on the other hand was anything but. He was shaking and  was curled into a ball, his face full of tears. 

Logan deduced that Pitch had made both devices soundproof. He tried not to contemplate the noise that it was withholding from him. 

Roman was conspicuously absent.

Logan got the message: the energy prisons had been tweaked. They no longer reflected emotions, they were individualised to achieve a desired effect.

"Now. I want to destroy Thomas, but, to do that, I have to break these guys down a little. Let them have a lil' bonding time, you know?" 

Logan scowled at the obvious dad-joke, and tried to avoid showing Pitch how scared he was. Closing his eyes, he centred his mind where he thought the voice had come from before, and stabbed the energy wall with all his might. 

His arm just painfully jerked back, having made no difference whatsoever. 

Pitch tutted. "That's not going to work again." Pitch started taking steps over to Virgil. Logan froze, eyes wide. 

"Doesn't he look peaceful?" He cooed, almost in a loving tone. 

Logan had to concede that Virgil looked better than he had had in months - his slack and relaxed face was almost unrecognisable. It struck him how tense the poor kid must always be. 

"A little dose of Patton's energy...a whole lot of yours...and a lil smidge of ol' Pitch." He said proudly. 

Against his will, Logan's mind kicked into gear and started running through the possibilities. What Pitch was offering was a chance to rebuild Thomas from scratch...Logan could make the optimum version of themselves in every possible way...

Pitch laughed at Logan's growing look of scientific interest. 

' _Logan, hold on to me.'_

_"_ _You are not physical so it is impossible to hold on to you."_

Logan was growing more clinical and emotionally removed by the second, something Pitch was watching with glee.

A Logic with emotional capacity? That wouldn't do for Pitch. The energy cage was siphoning off all those,  _icky feelings._

_'Hold on to me with your emotions...your heart.'_

A series of images flashed across Logan's mind...Thomas enrolling in College...Virgil asking to be taught more about the scientific side of anxiety...Patton making cookies...Roman apologising. 

 _"I'll hold onto you."_ Logan thought determindedly. " _Please hold onto me...I'm going to try something."_

He could feel his chest get a little warmer, and he was sure if his shirt wasn't so dark that he would have seen a literal glow. 

Logan looked up in a daze, and nodded to Pitch - who nearly broke into a dance. He held himself however, wanting to seal the effect.

 _"That's the problem with him."_ Logan thought firmly, closing his eyes as Pitch directed his darkness to close completely around him.  _"He's way too overconfident in his abilities."_

The darkness mottled, bubbled, then sank away into darkness. It left Logan behind, standing straight.

Pitch barely breathed as he waited for Logan to say something. 

After a long time of engaging in an unreadable staring match, Pitch got bored.

"Logan - "

"Call me Logic." Logan lifted his chin slightly, his eyes stony and expression neutral. 

' _I've got you. You're okay.'_

" _I've got you too."_

"Now, let's get to work! Patton or Virgil first?"

Thinking fast, Logan adjusted his tie. "For the optimum result I will need more time. Please conjure a whiteboard, a calculator, and several whiteboard markers."

Pitch nodded, gleeful in his apparent victory.  

Logan cleared his throat, hoping his next request would not give him away.

"I will also require the personality trait Creativity. I assume you possess it somewhere?"

Pitch just broke into a chilling, positively evil, grin.


	24. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's punishment is cut short, but not before Pitch gets his fill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Humiliation

Roman gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. His back was a hing and his face was red - bittersweet that the only colour he was able to produce was the acute hue of mortification. 

His wrists and ankles were shackled and anchored to the floor. He stood before his entire royal court. Roman's trial was taking place in his  _own_ throne room.

Among the throngs of the crowd he saw the faces of friends, family, faces of people who were both fictional and not. Every figment of Thomas' imagination was there to watch, to jeer, and to judge. He'd never seen them this mad or unruly before. Something had warped them. Roman had a strong feeling he knew who.

"Roman Sanders!" A troll stood in front of Roman's ornate throne behind the shackled Prince, reading from a scroll.

" _Prince_ Roman..." Roman corrected sharply. The guard that usually stood by his side in solidarity now hit him hard on his back and sent him sprawling to the ground. His wrists yanked painfully against the short chain. Will all his effort, Roman pushed himself up and stood again. The crowd started to boo. Roman's face of dignity flickered. 

" _Roman_ Sanders, you stand before this royal court accused of murder, treason, incompetence, and general tyranny. How do you plead?"

There were yells and screams of "GUILTY" from the crowd. Roman lifted his chin.

"Not Guilty."

A tomato hit him square in the chest, splattering his garments, face, and hair. Roman tried to retain his dignified stance - resolutely staring above the crowd. 

"...you are now also accused of lying to the Royal Court. Now the crowd will decide: you can either pronounce him guilty now, or have a trial by lake just to be sure."

Roman sucked in his breath. He had only ordered a handful of trials before, and he'd never employed the trial by lake method. 

It was...a bit too brutal for Roman's tastes. Think witch trials. 

And if he failed that...

If the lake found him guilty...

Would he respawn?

Roman bit his lip, starting to zone out. One thing he knew: he wouldn't change his plea. Pride may be all he had left.

As the crowd screamed and writhed...the Palace doors flew open. The crowd parted like the red sea and Pitch strode in. His head was adorned with a crown studded with black opals. Behind him came - 

"LOGAN!" Roman cried, straining against his bounds. 

Logan looked up, unsympathetic and critical. Behind him came two trolls who were each dragging a squirming body.

Roman sank to his knees, feeling a raw sense of hopelessness overwhelm him. 

Pitch passed Roman without even a glance, and took his place on the throne. The announcer troll bowed low and moved to join the crowd. 

Virgil and Patton were thrown forward before Roman. They froze, feeling spears pressed against their backs. 

"Ladies, Lords, one and all - " Pitch began. Roman clicked his tongue at the obvious exclusion of non-binary folk. "I am sorry to say, but you won't be able to drown any rats today, or any time soon for that matter." 

As the crowd groaned in disappointment, Virgil lifted his head slightly and locked eyes with the Prince.

The kid looked...completely doped up. Virgil was thin, his eyes had sunk into his face a little and he looked gaunt. 

"Never fear! These three _abominations_ will get _exactly_ what they deserve." 

"I'm sorry Verge." Roman mumbled, feeling a sense of guilt engulf him. He felt his hair being pulled back and Roman gave a sharp yelp.

Suddenly, he was looking up at Pitch, who was forcing his head back. 

"Hi sorry," He whispered. "I'm Pitch."

Virgil frowned slightly in his daze.

Roman spat up at his tormentor. Pitch paused for a moment, wiping it away with his sleeve, then dragged Roman up onto his feet by his hair.

"Never mind folks, we will give you a show after all!" Pitch was grinning maniacally now. Logan frowned.

"This is not a productive use of time or energy." 

Roman roared and spluttered. "LOGAN?! What the HELL - "

"Not Logan." Pitch sneered. " _Logic_."

Roman looked down at Virgil and Patton desperately at his feet. Patton was in a ball, sniveling. Virgil was motionless. 

"Logic, this will help me...break them down a little before bonding."

Roman froze.

"Now, let's see. Where was I?"

Roman started to really panic. Pure fear swept through him.

What had happened to Logan?

What would happen to Thomas?

How long had this been happening for? He couldn't even remember...

Pitch waved his hand and conjured a pair of scissors. The crowd was jubilant, and cheered sadistically. 

"Wait - WAIT!" Roman yelled, while being forced yet again to his knees by Pitch's iron grip. The guard beside him stepped over and pressed his boot firmly on the chain that linked his hands to the floor - leaving him unable to move them. Hair started falling around him and Roman nearly threw up.

What was going on?

What was this feeling?

"Every now and then you just gotta shave off a little bit of ego." Pitch said conversationally. The crowd laughed, almost akin to a studio audience. Pitch's hand slipped oddly and sliced the back of Roman's neck. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Pitch threw him forward. Roman landed face first between Patton and Virgil. 

"We can go now..." Roman dimly heard Logan say. 

"Shut up." Pitch hissed. "We're just getting started." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh sorry Roman, I love you my boy <3


	25. A Little Bit of Outside Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Logan to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Humiliation and slight violence

Logan felt his mind focus. He centred himself by concentrating very hard on his anger. 

After Pitch had had his excessive... _fun_ , he'd abandoned the trial scene and brought them all to the back of the mind. 

Logan noted how changeable Pitch was becoming...less suspicious. Surely, Logan's loyalties were obvious? 

Pitch had provided the whiteboard and other items that Logan had requested, and Logan busied himself writing nonsense formulas and sums up about what they could make with...with the subdued sides. 

The other three weren't even in cages now. They were just lying on the ground. 

Logan swallowed, hard.

Poor Roman...

His humiliation hadn't stopped with his hair. 

They may butt heads a lot, but Logan never wanted to see anything like that ever again.

Pitch had snapped his fingers and turned Roman's royal garbs into a jester costume...then dumped a literal tonne of glitter on him. 

' _Help is coming.'_

Logan shook his head to try and shake the image of the throne room out of his head. He had to keep stalling. Pitch was getting impatient - and there was only so long he could fake this investigation for.

_'Nearly there.'_

Logan got an idea.

" _Can you go over to Virgil?"_

_'...yes, I think I can.'_

"Right." He exclaimed, turning on his heel to face Pitch. 

"Aren't you left?" Pitch replied cheekily. "What have you got for me?"

"I think I've worked out the perfect formula for you. You are nearly perfect, but I can double your productivity by adding a dose of Anxiety."

Pitch raised his eyebrows, and Logan felt his stomach flip. 

"I'm already at peak perfection, thank you. Thomas does not - "

The room shook.

Pitch went white.

"He...no...THOMAS!" He growled in disbelief.

Patton stopped sniveling. It was a tiny change, but Logan was starting to understand. 

It was the cavalry.

He pressed his advantage. 

"Well...looks like Thomas is fighting back. You obviously need the extra oomph."

Pitch chewed his lip, then nodded.

Darkness swirled around Virgil and hoisted him into a standing position like a doll. 

"Okay, first you dematerialise, then I'll trigger Anxiety - "

"Fat chance." Pitch snarled, pushing Logan out of the way as another shudder went through the ground. Pitch shoved his hand into Virgil's chest.

Patton opened his eyes wide. "No - STOP!" he coughed. 

Virgil demateralised into his silver essence...

Just as Logan lurched forward and grabbed a slightly paler sliver of essence, right at the front. He felt it burn slightly in his hand, in confirmation of his unasked question. 

"This will do." Logan nodded. 

Patton gazed up at him in horror, but Logan refused to feel guilty. Roman still hadn't moved an inch. "Let Anxiety reform, there are still other combinations that can be created." He was talking nonsense, but something in his tone was genuine enough that Pitch withdrew his hands and Virgil reformed, coughing and spluttering. 

There was another small tremor, and out of nowhere Roman summoned what strength he had left and tried to swipe Pitch's legs out from underneath him. He barely moved Pitch, who just stepped aside then kicked the side. A cloud of glitter flew into the air at the impact.

"You got glitter on my shoe." Pitch complained. 

Logan let the piece of essence go and knelt to subdue Roman. He tried not to wince as he heard Virgil hit the ground behind him. 

"Trust me." Logan murmured. Behind him was a flash of light as Pitch started to combine with the other essence. Logan felt around in the inside of his shirt for his little contraption - he had taped the broken hilt of Roman's sword to his pen. He tried not to groan at how much this ordeal is making him think outside of the box with little evidential support or chance to experiment. 

Logan stood with a yell - and stabbed the exposed essence. 

With a big explosion, Logan was thrown back and knocked into Patton. 

"What did you do?" Roman managed meekly.

"No idea." Logan admitted, feeling dizzy. "Just kinda felt like stabbing him."

"You sure he hasn't got you too?" Roman said slyly. 

They all looked up in awe.

The light dissipated, and a blob of darkness fell to the ground.

"He's separated from Tristan." Logan warned as he scrambled up and shook Roman. "Help me get them out of here." Patton was way too weak, and Roman was his only shot. He couldn't chance two trips. 

Roman nodded, reaching out for Virgil as Logan grabbed Patton. 

At the same time, the blob of darkness was bubbling and writhing angrily...something started emerging from the centre of the pool...Logan didn't want to stick around to find out more. 

A torso and arm solidified and reached out.

Logan yelled.

Someone screamed.

He blinked...

...And they appeared in Thomas' living room. 

Thomas looked up with a mixture of surprise, relief, and a little caution. He was wearing a woolly jumper and Logan frowned - surely Thomas couldn't be cold in the middle of summer?

Logan gently lowered Patton onto the nearest chair. The Father Figure winced but nodded in thanks. 

Roman just collapsed on the floor, sending another cloud of glitter into the air as he did so. He ripped the jester hat off his head and Thomas tried not to stare at his apparent hair cut. 

Logan sighed. He wasn't off duty yet. "I suppose you have questions Thomas."

"Yeah." Thomas said slowly. "First off, where is Virgil?" 

Logan spun around, heart sinking. Roman lifted his head in surprise and looked at his fist in horror - where he held an empty, purple, hoodie. 


	26. Licking Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone takes some time to grapple with what just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Talks about being sad. Slight blood. Threat of violence.

Seven Months.

It had been  _seven months._

To the sides, it had barely seemed like a week. 

"When did you start the medication Thomas?" Logan asked. 

They all were nursing hot cups of coffee. Patton and Thomas were on the couch, Roman and Logan in separate armchairs on either side. 

Without asking questions, Thomas had kindly grabbed an old beanie of Joans that he had had lying around and had given it to Roman - as well as a dressing gown to cover the garish jesters' outfit. 

Patton was buried under at least five blankets. He had been one of the hardest hit, and for the longest time. Even Logan wasn't exactly sure of what he had been through. Thomas had a protective arm around Patton's shoulders, and the father figure leaned into the warmth of the touch. 

Thomas looked a little surprised by Logan's question, not having mentioned any medication.

"This course and dose...about two months? They tried me on another brand before that, but it didn't do much for me." 

Logan nodded, then set down is cup on the coffee table in front of him, stood up, then stepped over and hugged Thomas on the couch. 

"Thank you." He choked, allowing some of his stress and sense of responsibility ebb away with the hug. "I needed back up, and whatever you took seemed to make my head clearer and these two wake up a little...we were able to escape because of that."

Thomas shook his head, not really understanding but grateful that his friends had - after many months of him ignoring them - forced themselves into his house and taken him to see a therapist and a doctor. 

Logan sat down again, and blushed a little at his informal action. He covered his shyness by sipping his coffee.

Roman cleared his throat. "Thomas, can I please use your shower facilities?" 

"I dunno." Came a muffled reply. "Can you?" 

Logan lifted his head slightly, eyes wide. Patton was sheepishly peering over the blankets. 

Roman broke into a smile. "He's the one who's supposed to correct grammar." He grunted, getting up and leaving after Thomas gave him a confused nod.

"Can't he just...change himself?" Thomas whispered after the Prince had left the room. 

"Roman's not feeling...himself, lately." Logan hesitated, taking another sip.

Patton shifted uncomfortably. 

"Logan...I've been patient, but can you please - "

"Explain?" Logan leaned back, feeling utterly exhausted. 

After the initial panic of losing Virgil, they had grudgingly agreed to rest up and work on a plan - and of course to keep an eye on Thomas. They were too weak to be of any help to Virgil...wherever he was.

Logan was sure he'd managed to destroy Pitch as a side, so he couldn't appear to them in the real world anymore. But, he was a disease before he had managed to bond with Tristan, and he had done more than enough damage to Virgil and Patton without being a side. 

"I only really know the middle and end. Patton...I don't want to force the beginning out of you if you are not ready - "

"No." Patton sat up slightly. "No, I need to share my feelings about what happened. Please." His voice was a little shaky, but resolute. Logan smiled at him.

"Wait for me!" Roman yelled, strolling into the room wearing a pair of Thomas' PJ's (beanie still on his head). When Roman had resumed his seat, Patton began his tale.

~

Virgil gritted his teeth, and balled his fists. He felt as if he was slowly waking up after a long sleep...what had been hazy images now sharpened... 

And he found he didn't like what he saw.

Pitch...looking like Pitch again...pacing... _raging_. He was creating things and destroying them as quickly as they appeared. His raw anger was palpable. 

Virgil laughed. 

Pitch spun around so fast he was a blur. "What are you laughing at, loser?" He charged and crouched before Virgil, breathing in his face and sending spit flying. 

"Just glad to see your ugly mug again." Virgil hissed back. He was feeling more and more like himself - and himself was _mad_.

"Well at least _my_ family didn't leave _me_ to rot in the back of the mind with my worst enemy!"

Virgil's heart skipped a beat and his smile was replaced by a scowl. 

"Don't believe me?" Pitch was starting to sound unhinged. He conjured that wretched mirror again. 

It displayed Roman, Logan, Patton, and Thomas, all wrapped up in blankets...drinking coffee and listening calmly to a story.

Virgil couldn't help but deflate a little, though he was insanely glad to see that they were all okay and Thomas seemed well. 

If this was the price, he'd pay it.

Virgil curled up a little tighter, wishing he had his hoodie to disappear into, and just watched as Pitch got up and started to pace.

~

"I don't know exactly when I started to notice Pitch. Maybe in my dreams? In the middle of a story? In the background of a TV show maybe? He seemed so...sad. That made me sad. But it wasn't like with the break up and the moving on videos...I was sad then because of a clear cause. I just felt a little silly being sad for no real reason. I didn't see any harm in just trying to work through it alone, ya know?" 

Patton took a sip of his coffee, the effort of his exposition obvious. Thomas nodded slowly, having talked about the exact same sensation with his therapist. 

"Pitch started...playing around in my dreams. Getting me to live through impossible scenarios, the endings kept getting worse and worse..." Patton shuddered, and Roman leaned over and patted his knee. "I considered telling you guys...was on my way to tell you guys...when Pitch appeared in my room while I was awake. He - he threatened to go after Virgil instead...if I told anyone...I tried to move past him but he already had a powerful hold over me...his darkness drowned me. Made me seem terrible things..." He sniffled, and Thomas grabbed him a tissue and Patton noisily blew his nose.

"Kicker is, the danger he represented and the fear he put in me exhausted Virgil to the point of death! If Tristan hadn't broken off and formed...I don't know if Verge would have made it - " He sobbed the last part.

Thomas looked at Logan quizzically at the name "Tristan", but Logan shook his head sadly. _Not now._

"He hurt me." Patton said, a little firmer. "And then...he hurt all of you anyway."

Logan took a long drought of coffee. Patton went to speak again, but paused, horrified.

"Roman, are you bleeding?" 

Roman looked down, following Patton's eye-line, a little confused. 

Visible between the button's of Thomas' PJ shirt, on his torso, was _red_. 

Roman slowly unbuttoned it...to reveal his Princely garb. The colours looked like they had been bleached out, but they were undeniably there. It was such a slight change, but Roman looked as though he had sprouted wings.

AKA: absolutely ecstatic. 

"Whatever you're doing Patton, keep going!" He said eagerly. 

Logan shook his head. "This is a pleasing development, but I think this is not going to be fixed in a day."

"Please, carry on." Thomas prompted. 

"I think Logan can take it from here." Patton murmured, cuddling into Thomas' side.

~

Virgil laughed bitterly, enjoying how enraged Pitch was getting - it was better than winding up Princey! He was also trying to hide his own fear, Virgil was weak, and completely at the mercy of a madman. 

Pitch roared and punched the mirror with all his might. Glass smashed everywhere and was further spread by the dark winds that were whipping around the room. Virgil lifted his hands to shield his face - a shard of mirror slicing open his palm as he did so. It stung a little, but wasn't too bad. 

Pitch was breathing heavily, looking at the ground with his fists balled, thinking. 

Virgil coughed.

Pitch whipped his head to stare at him. His hair was no longer spiky, but limo and lifeless. His teeth were bared and he had an angry flush in his face. 

Virgil's stomach flipped as Pitch's eyes traveled downwards to gaze at his bloody palm.

Pitch picked up a shard of broken mirror, and smirked at Virgil. 

"There is more than one way to skin a cat." He hissed. Pitch grabbed Virgil by his hair, and started marching further into the back of the mind, Virgil squirming, flailing, and kicking, in vain.


	27. Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sides gear up to go back into the thick of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of suicide, but there is a focus on self care!

"That's...wow." Thomas rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on closed fists.

They sat in silence and a shared exhaustion. Thomas' phone buzzed, but he ignored it. 

"So...what are we going to do now?" Thomas frowned. 

Patton and Roman looked to Logan and he flushed a little - he could get used to that. 

"Well, my first two steps were to remedy our immediate health concerns, and start to share our feelings honestly. I think I was immune because I stopped ignoring my feelings and started dealing with them head on..."

"I'm so proud of you." Patton's eyes shone. 

Logan shifted a little. "I had a bit of help."

He described the odd voice in his head. 

"Do you think that was..." Roman began.

"Tristan? Yes I think so. At least, the chunks of Tristan that Pitch did not want. My guess is that he did not actually dispose of the extra essence, but just cast it loose in the back of the mind. It managed to latch onto me and communicate, possibly because I was actively trying to confront my feelings...or because I was the last." 

Patton nodded. "What's going to happen to him?"

Logan shook his head. "I honestly don't know, but we'll have to see what we can do after Pitch is obliterated." Logan's expression hardened. 

"Pitch is going to want to win no matter what." Roman said bitterly. 

Thomas looked around nervously. "What exactly is 'winning' to him?" 

Logan gave him a hard look. He couldn't exactly be blunt, but it was a delicate subject and time was of the essence. "Please call some friends or family who can watch you. Tell them to remove all sharp objects from the room and preferably stay with you somewhere downstairs..."

"WOAH WOAH WOAAH!" Thomas looked alarmed. "Really? I don't feel...like that?"

"He has Virgil." Patton whispered.

It clicked.

It wouldn't be Thomas actively looking to end his own life: with the prolonged absence of anxiety, he would be at risk of doing that by sheer recklessness.  

"Okay." Thomas nodded. Logan relaxed a little.

"Hey, being with your friends might even help Virgil out, wherever he is." Patton piped up hopefully. 

Thomas flicked open his phone and sent the texts. Though he didn't want to point it out, Logan tensed at the fact that Thomas didn't need more convincing or psyching up. Virgil was being dulled already.

"Okay. Today we are going to self-care the heck out of Thomas." Logan said firmly. "Did I use that term correctly?" 

"A bubble bath and a cup of green tea ain't going to defeat depression, Logan." Roman huffed, folding his arms over his chest. 

"I am quite aware of that Roman." Logan said. "We do need to temporarily weaken Pitch though, enough to get Virgil back." 

"And then what?" Patton asked softly. Logan bit his lip and leaned back in his chair. 

"I guess we learn how to move forward."

They sat in a contemplatively silence until the doorbell rang.  

"That's our cue." Logan groaned as he stood.

The three sides each hugged Thomas, then sank down into the mindscape.

"How do we get to the back of the mind, Logan?" Roman asked gruffly, now in his pale Royal garbs. 

Logan tapped his chest then grabbed an arm each of the other two. 

"I think...I think the truth can get us there."

_'Hold on Logan.'_

The three blinked, and they were suddenly in darkness. 

Standing before them...no...floating before them, was the hazy ghost of silver, but with a green beanie. 


	28. Fading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil struggles and suffers at Pitch's hand, who isn't happy that his plans are in tatters since the escape of the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, violence, Pitch hurts Virgil.

They had been moving for so long, Virgil had lost count of the steps. Pitch had gotten tired of dragging him himself, so Virgil was being dragged behind him by a tentacle of darkness. 

Something was plaguing him.

Pitch wasn't a side anymore. 

Virgil closed his eyes. 

' _TRISTAN!'_ He thought with all his might. ' _Stan?'_

Silence...but Virgil didn't feel alone anymore.

Suddenly, the tentacle of darkness flipped him into the air and literally catapulted him over Pitch, slamming him into the ground. Virgil groaned - every part of him ached. 

"This isn't FAIR!" Pitch hissed, advancing towards where Virgil was struggling to push himself up. He kicked him in the stomach, and Virgil rolled onto his back in considerable pain. 

Even though his head was clouded from pain and disorientation...Virgil noticed that he was starting to feel...weightless.

He was starting to fade.

Pitch sneered. "Yeah. That's right. I'll drag you right into nothingness, but not - " he kicked Virgil again, "- until you're weak enough to stay forgotten." 

Pitch fetched the mirror shard from his pocket, crouched down and put a knee on Virgil's chest to hold him down. 

"Pitch - wait - " Virgil spluttered, thinking fast. 

Maybe he could do them all a favour: stall Pitch, or find a way to drag him deeper into the abyss...

Pitch could be obliterated _too_. 

Reading Virgil's thought process plainly, Pitch smiled. Maybe he could score one last victory after all. 

He could push Virgil to sacrifice himself to try take _him_ down...as one last ' _eff you'_ to the others. 

It being Virgil's fault would make Pitch feel less of a failure for not having it be all of their faults. 

It was so much more fun than forcing people, to manipulate them into _wanting_ him to do.

"That little plan won't work _Verge_." Pitch whispered, holding the mirror shard against his throat. "I'm stronger than you. I'll be able to walk out of here after you've faded...I won't be fading anytime soon."

Instead of panic, Virgil felt... _determination_. It was both a foreign and a familiar feeling at the same time.

" _Buddy...you're important."_

Virgil hardened his face. 

No.

He wouldn't risk fading just to take Pitch down. 

Thomas needed him.

He _was_ needed.

" _Help is coming"_

Virgil relaxed a little, he didn't have to stall for too long. 

"I don't plan on fading either." Virgil breathed, attempting to bring his knee up to tip Pitch's balance, but he was pinned down too well. 

Pitch clicked his tongue. 

"Well you always were a pain in the arse." Pitch was starting to feel lighter too...he had to hurry. 

"Shame the others stole your hoodie." Pitch said conversationally. He conjured four pieces of darkness to hold Virgil in place - one each trapping a wrist or ankle. He took the mirror shard, and began to trace it down Virgil's exposed arm...lightly at first but gradually applied pressure.

"You're a dick." Virgil gasped, closing his eyes and trying to focus on happy thoughts. 

_"Stay with me buddy."_

"I'm so tired." Virgil muttered. 

"Let's wake you up then." Pitch brought the shard up to the top of Virgil's arm again, and slowly pierced him.

Virgil screamed and squirmed but couldn't move away from his tormentor. 

"Quit squirming! I want to finish this before your bloody arm disappears."

Virgil's head flew up - and saw that his arm was almost completely transparent. 

"I'M NOT LEAVING!" Virgil sobbed, wishing for help. Once upon a time, he would have been glad when the others couldn't hear his desperate cries, but he'd give anything for them to hear him now. 

"But everyone _wants_ you too." Pitch said lightly, finishing off the word he was carving.

"No they DON'T!" Virgil yelled, squirming violently. He wasn't going to give in...not this time. 

"Now...what should I put on the other arm? Gotta be quick or I'm going to end up carving the floor beneath you..."

Virgil let the tears roll as he thought of hot chocolates and involuntary moans...he thought of cookies...of Disney debates...of Patton's face when he turned up to a meal...

Virgil panted with the pain, his arm slick with thick blood. 

He thought of Tristan.

His friend. 

_Tell the truth._

"I'm not scared of you." Virgil gritted his teeth. Pitch just stared at him, arm hovering above Virgil's other arm. "Because of _you_ I've been on edge for the best part of the year...but I was scared of the unknown in the dark. _You_ are not something I'm afraid of. You're pathetic. You have no power here."

Pitch just gaped and Virgil saw his blow land with satisfaction. Pitch roared, swung his arm back, then stabbed down with the mirror shard - aiming squarely for Virgil's chest. 

Virgil closed his eyes and waited for the pain about to come...but he heard only the sharp  _clang_ of metal on metal. 

His eyes flew open, and he saw that the shard was still above him...but it had been blocked by the blade of a sword. 

 


	29. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation.

"Get away from him." Roman growled, holding the new sword in his hand that Tristan had helped him create. 

Pitch dropped his weapon and put his hands in the air. He rose off Virgil - using his knee to push off Virgil's chest to do so. Virgil grunted in pain.

Logan was on Roman's left, also pointing an object at Pitch: his pen. 

Patton was on the right in a fighting stance, looking furious. 

And beside him...

"Tristan?" Virgil choked. 

Tristan floated there, very ghost like. He looked solemn, and pale...though his image shifted and glitched occasionally. He smiled encouraging at Virgil.

"Let him go Pitch." Logan warned, aware that Virgil was still pinned to the ground by darkness. 

Pitch breathed heavily, obviously thinking fast, eyes darting quickly between each of them.

"Patton did this, not me." The darkness started to spread over Virgil's body. He writhed and squirmed but did not make a sound. 

"STOP TRYING TO GET INTO PATTON'S HEAD AGAIN AND JUST _STOP_." Roman raised his sword. 

"No Roman." Patton stepped forward. "I know I let the gates open. I _know_ you're only here because of me."

The room shuddered like an earthquake and more darkness sprung into the air. Virgil stopped squirming and just panted. The darkness, reached his torso. 

"Oh dear...Thomas must be making some baaaad decisions."Pitch laughed lightly. 

The shook again, more violently this time, and Patton gave a cry as Virgil started to grow even fainter. He fell to his knees beside him and desperately clawed at the darkness, trying his best to scrape it off. 

"Wait." Pitch frowned. Patton had always been terrified of that darkness...

Where Patton's tears landed came little sizzles as bits of darkness dissolved. 

Patton wasn't scared of him. 

Pitch began to panic.

"VIRGIL!" He screamed, making the side start. 

Pitch conjured a sword of his own and swung down. 

He wasn't going to lose.

But for the second time, his blow didn't hit its mark.

Roman parried his blade and then he and Logan stabbed Pitch in unison. 

Pitch staggered back, a sword and a pen protruding through his chest.

He coughed and a black substance ran down his chin. 

Pitch staggered and fell to his knees, the darkness that was smothering Virgil dissipated into general nothingness. Patton helped Virgil get up. Virgil narrowed his eyes as he leaned on Patton's shoulder and watched Pitch starting to disintegrate. Roman and Logan just panted from the rush of adrenaline. 

"You think I'll LEAVE THIS EASILY?" Pitch screamed, holding his chest and removing the intruding items. "You can't DESTROY ME COMPLETELY! I'm here for good!"

Tristan stepped forward.

"You're right." He said simply. all eyes resting on him...what was let of him. "But if Thomas is honest with himself, and mindful, you'll never get the chance to be a threat again." 

Virgil blinked. It could just be the fact that he was literally in the middle of dying, but he swore that Tristan was...disintegrating too? 

"No chance of that." Pitch snapped, his chest flowing freely with bubbling black darkness. "I left a little reminder of me on Virgil's arm. I'll always be able to hurt you because you're all WEAK." 

Logan stepped over and quietly assessed Virgil's arm, which he had tried to hide behind him. Though he kept his face passive and his eyes locked onto the angry open wound, he balled his fist and started shaking. 

Pitch had carved "LIAR", deep into his arm.

Tristan took another step forward. "No you won't. I'm here now, and I'm here to stay."

Pitch's face fell and his image flickered a little. 

"We're not afraid of you." Tristan closed his eyes and knelt in front of Pitch. He put his hand on Pitch's chest, and there was a large flash of silver.

"No..." Virgil groaned, suddenly starting to panic at what Tristan was doing. 

Pitch started to disintegrate entirely, and floated away from the four standing sides and drifted into the abyss. 

At the same time, Tristan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started to disintegrate. Specks of silver breaking off and floating towards them. 

Virgil let off a sob and would have collapsed had Roman not grabbed his other arm. 

No one said a thing, but just watched in wonder. Despite the circumstances, it was undeniably a beautiful sight. It looked like there was a swarm of fireflies just hanging in the air around them. 

"We have to get Virgil home." Logan whispered, his voice thick. 

"No." Virgil sobbed. 

He'd lost his friend.

Almost in response, the silver flecks began to congregate in four separate blobs...

"Oh." Patton breathed. 

Each side was approached by one of these seething silver masses. 

"I accept you." Virgil muttered. The orb closest to him floated into his chest and glowed bright silver, before fading. 

Each side did the same, and they understood.

There wasn't enough left of Tristan to exist on his own.

Each of them had to pick up his fight against untruths. 

The silver glow faded as the last of Tristan's essence disappeared. 

Virgil, Patton, Roman, and Logan, closed their eyes and teleported away from the dark empty abyss that was the back of the mind. 


	30. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and the Sides adjust to a new kind of life.

Thomas' finger hovered over the "enter button on his keyboard dramatically.

"Come on Thomas! Just one more click then _hello_ success fame and fortune!" Roman practically danced from his corner of Thomas' living room. He no longer simply worse a plain white costume with red and gold additions: his whole outfit was now gold, still with his signature red sash, no white in sight. 

After he had regained all his colour (and his hair), he had vowed to never be that colourness again. 

"You have completed the project there is no use in delaying submission." sighed Logan, adjusting his glasses.

"I'm SO PROUD of you SON!" Patton squeezed, dancing on the spot. 

"Not your son..." Thomas sang playfully. 

"I dunno you guys..." Virgil sighed from the stairs. He recoiled a little under the gaze of the others. "Putting yourself out there like this...a lot could go wrong." 

"That's true, Virgil." Thomas conceded. "Are you comfortable that we've assessed the possible risks and outcomes?" Logan asked. 

Virgil swallowed. "Yes actually. You guys were very thorough." He paused for a bit. 

"We understand Virgil." Patton said softly. "It was a hard process for everyone."

Several months had passed since Pitch had disintegrated. True to his word - he showed up every now and then. Never in human form, in the form of black sludge. 

Logan now routinely strolled through the infospace, cleaning it up and disposing it. They would then have a casual talk about what may have caused it. There wasn't always something obvious, but they always enjoyed the chance to discuss things. 

Roman kept an eye on the dreamscape - it being mostly back to normal. It took a while not to flinch at the sight of his subjects and he had completely remodeled the throne room, scrubbing any memory of what had happened there. 

The meadow wasn't there. Roman guessed nothing would grow there even if he tried. Instead he left the barren patch of earth as a reminder. 

It was humbling. 

Patton kept an eye on the back of the mind.

Virgil would always double check the areas after the others had finished. They understood, and were grateful for it. 

"Okay." Virgil mumbled. Roman punched his arm affectionately, but immediately regretted it.

"God, I'm so sorry Verge...I forgot - "

"Don't get your pantyhose in a twist Princey." Virgil smiled slightly. "It doesn't really hurt anymore."

Thomas smiled, then took a breath, and hit send. 

With a _whoosh_ his manuscript was sent out into the world of publishers.

"No matter what, it's _my_ favourite book!" Patton said proudly, grinning and putting his hands theatrically on his hips. 

"Well it is about us after all." Roman laughed. "Though I still think you should have left out the part about the hair and the glitter..."

"Gotta be honest Roman!" Thomas shrugged. Partly as a coping mechanism, and partly because writing it all down was an easier way for Thomas to communicate with his friends what exactly had happened to him over the past year...he had turned his story into a book. Maybe it could help someone else be a little more truthful with themselves.

His friends had rallied by his side, that day, and he would be forever grateful. 

If they hadn't been there...

Virgil had nearly completely faded. Thomas had nearly set the house on fire even under supervision. 

"Well done buddy." Virgil nodded.

Thomas' phone buzzed.

"Huh." He said, reading the text. "Leo wants to hang out."

"Sounds good...but maybe a movie night? Something quiet..." Virgil suggested nervously.

"You know, a movie night sounds wonderful." Thomas smiled, and Virgil relaxed. 

The sides said good night, then sank into the mindscape kitchen.

"Alright, I'm taking orders." Virgil announced. All three hands went up. "Cool...four then." 

"I would prefer a HOT chocolate rather than a COOL one if it's an option!" Patton spoke up, eliciting a groan from Virgil as he set about making them.

He'd made his now famous hot chocolates half a dozen times now, and reserved them for special occasions.

He set the steaming cups down in front of each of them, then went around and slowly applied whipped cream and grated chocolate to the tops - completing his masterpieces. 

"You are a true marvel, Gordon _Restlessly_." 

"Come on dude, you can do better than that." Virgil grunted as he sat down in his own chair. 

"Paul Hollywood?" 

"You did not attempt to wittily adapt that name at all." Logan frowned. 

"Yeah because I didn't need to! _Hollywood_...because of his dramatic nature and his make-up."

"Wouldn't _you_ be the Hollywood then?" Patton asked cheekily. 

"Fine. _I'll_ be Paul Hollywood..."

"Is this a role play now?" Logan raised his eyebrow. "If so I will be Jamie Oliver."

"NOOOOOOOO..." Roman groaned. 

Virgil just smiled and raised his mug. The others followed suit and their glasses met in the middle, making a merry " _chink!"_

They each drank deeply, then pulled away with a salacious moan, mustaches plastered on their top lips, then dissolved into giggles.

When Virgil reached the bottom of his drink, he swirled the choclately dregs thoughtfully.

"Do you think we'll ever truly get rid of him?" Virgil almost subconsciously flexed his arm slightly.

Patton looked at Logan, then to Roman, then set his own mug down too. 

"I don't know." The father figure said softly. "Maybe one day, well into the future. But for now...we keep doing what we are doing."

Logan set his own empty mug down. "Patton his quite correct. As an illness, Pitch is frightfully lawless - he doesn't need reason to sprout where he does. However, I can confidently say we will never give him solid power ever again."

Virgil nodded, still staring downwards. 

"He was never meant to be a side, he had to force that and I think he made a mistake doing that." Roman nodded. 

Virgil lifted his chin slightly. "I think Tristan...well the parts he took...held him back in places." He had been mulling over every exchange he had had with Pitch since he'd been beaten. 

"Like Malachite!" Patton gasped. 

Logan looked thoughtful. "That may make some sense actually...Pitch was a much more efficient villain before he bonded..."

"Trust you to admire his efficiency." Roman huffed, folding his arms. 

"Puns." Virgil said suddenly, cutting off Logan's angry retort and eyes growing wide. 

"Yes?" Patton asked, now extremely invested. 

"Pitch started making really bad puns and dad-jokes."

"He was being unproductive!" Logan gasped. "Tristan was stalling where he could..."

"He's a bloody hero." Roman mused. 

They lapsed again, all staring in their respective empty mugs. 

"No matter what comes," Patton finally said. "We just have to take it day by day. Maybe Pitch will be gone for good, but for now: we be mindful. We be on-guard. But we function. Sure - we may have bad days, but even on my worst days I will never be unhappy to spend time with all of you." 

Virgil smiled in spite of himself. 

He was not one for change, but they had all gone through a big one. Things wouldn't be the same, at least not in a hurry. 

But maybe Patton was right, and at least they can rely on the solidarity of each other.

Feeling warm inside, Virgil snuggled deep into his hoodie as Patton began to clear up. 

Logan looked around, and found it hard to picture how alone he had felt in the thick of it all. 

As Patton rejoined them, he grabbed Patton's hand and squeezed. Patton linked up with Roman, but both Roman and Logan paused - waiting for Virgil's permission.

"Are we really doing this?" Virgil groaned. 

"Not if you don't want to." Logan assured. 

Virgil paused for a moment, them grumbled moodily and completed the circle. 

They were on a journey, but they were not alone. 

There was a slight silver glow to the group that flashed as they connected.

 _No._ Virgil smiled. 

They definitely were not alone.


	31. Authors Note

Wow! I just want to say a MASSIVE thank you to those of you who commented, left kudos, and even just reading it. This process of writing and posting has honestly helped me so much! This is the first time I’ve published my writing in years and your interest, tips, and kind words have honestly just made my day every day.

My goal for this was to have some choice Virgil angst, but it kinda spiralled into angst for everyone! I never set out to make Logan the hero, it’s just how it happened but I’m happy that I gave Logan that role, he don’t get enough love!

To be honest, when I set out I had a vague plan but I let it go where I felt it went naturally.

Originally, Pitch was going to be the voice that Virgil hears the start, but I loved Tristan too much to make him a simple mask, and I like them as separate characters.

It was important to me that Pitch wasn’t a side. Personally, I have accepted my own anxiety (in part thanks to Thomas and his videos), but I’m not prepared to accept that my depression is anything more than a disease.

It was also important for me to try and not play down the severity that is depression, and that it’s not an easy fix. The ending isn’t a slam dunk win for the sides, but they are helping Thomas function with a mental illness, even if Pitch is much weaker at the end.

I just love these guys so much! And I loved sharing this with you. Remember to be honest with yourself and your feelings. They are valid, if only for the reason that you are feeling them. There doesn’t have to be a reason to be sad, because often there isn’t.

So thank you, once again, for the love and support.

Kia Kaha,

-Sammy

xxx


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